


Dark Before Dawn

by neelie415



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angela and Jesse are friends too, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I'll add more characters as I go, I'm trying to tag things people might want to avoid, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Minor Character Death, New Orleans, Omnic Racism, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Overwatch Retribution, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, R76 is background, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Vaginal Sex, loss of limb, moira has questionable ethics, the main ship here is Gency, the slowest of slow burns, too much partying, trying not to die in the swamp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neelie415/pseuds/neelie415
Summary: Slowly, she made sense of what she was looking at and the sight makes her want to cry and strangle whoever was responsible. It was not a pile of rags at her feet, soaking up the rain water in a puddle, but the broken and bloody body of a man, barely drawing breath through a throat that gurgled with each wretched gasp. His one remaining arm reached out to her, pleading.“You’re not alone.”How Genji and Angela fall in love and fall apart. Afterall, who really knows what the future holds?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm posting this first bit just to see if people like my writing! I've noticed a lot of Gency fics are AUs so I decided to write my own version of how Angela and Genji develop their relationship! I've got stuff written after this and will try to update once a week so please hold me to that! Shout out to my friends Marisa and Elaine for being my beta readers and my sister Michelle for cheering me on too!
> 
> Rachel thanks for always helping me storyboard and being there to make me finish stuff. I love you and I'm sorry I've started another WIP. 
> 
> Also all I know about Overwatch is strictly from playing the game with a tiny bit from the Overwatch wiki so if something doesnt make sense please let me know

“Mercy, we’ve picked up some...interesting chatter from up near the castle,” Jack’s voice said in her ear. “We’re going to go check it out. Stay back in case something goes sideways, you know the drill.” 

“Copy that,” Angela responded. She spun her caduceus staff in one hand before trotting down one of Hanamura’s side streets. The rain that poured down in sheets earlier had finally abated, leaving her soaked to the bone. Every step was a careful dance around puddles and over narrow rivers of water cascading down the gutters. 

With their initial mission completed, the rest of the team chatted happily over their comm link. Jesse demanding if anyone knows about a good noodle place, Reinhardt cheerfully announcing that it is his first time in Japan so no, he does not know of a good noodle place, Gabe grumbling about being soaked through, and Jack reminding everyone that comms are for mission relevant communication only.

“Aw, come on,” complained Jesse. “Everybody’s gotta eat.”

Angela chuckled at his predictable response but otherwise kept quiet. She liked to listen in on the team chatter; jokes and suggestions about food choices meant that everyone is still alive and in one piece. It was when the joking stopped and the fighting began that she really used the connection. 

She carefully sidestepped a pile of wet rags but froze when it shifted. For a moment Angela thought that her mind is playing tricks on her, not enough sleep and too much caffeine, but no. The rags didn’t just shift, they moaned.

“Mein Gott,” she said aloud and took another look. Slowly, she made sense of what she was looking at and the sight makes her want to simultaneously cry and murder whoever was responsible. It was not a pile of rags at her feet, soaking up the rain water in a puddle, but the broken and bloody body of a man, barely drawing breath through a throat that gurgled with each wretched gasp. His one remaining arm reached out to her, pleading. 

There’s too much damage. Memories of other injuries this severe flash quickly through her mind and she knew that all she could do was keep him comfortable until the end. With his grizzly injuries it shouldn’t take long. She knelt down beside him, not caring about the wet, and gently pressed her hand to his forehead.

“Don’t worry,” she said, pitching her voice to the same soothing tone she used with all of her patients, “You’re not alone anymore.” Distantly she heard the others still talking over comms, but she ignored them and waited for the poor man to die. 

Only he didn’t. 

After a minute Angela thought that she may have misjudged him, after fives minutes she thought there might be a chance to save him and began using her staff. After ten his eyes opened briefly, revealing the warmest shade of brown she’d ever seen.

“This is Mercy,” she called over the comm. “I need immediate evac, now.”

She held his hand as they transferred him onto a stretcher and didn’t let go while they load him onto the shuttle. 

Angela worked in a frenzy to stabilize him while Tracer lifted off again. She focused on nothing else while she cauterized the stumps were his legs used to be and sutured the less severe cuts. She kept him under a constant biotic field, the microscopic nanoprobes working hard to knit flesh back together. She ran through nearly her entire supply of synthetic blood, and was on the brink of using the O negative she kept on hand for emergencies just like this when the worst passed. Beyond all odds, the machines beeped in time with his slow heartbeat, unsteady but undeniably there. When a lung collapsed she spent several stressful minutes trying to restabilize him but eventually, hours into their flight back to Gibraltar from Hanamura, she collapsed back into a chair and stared at the person lying prone on her makeshift operating table. His vitals on the monitor were low, but steady. 

She thought that just maybe, he might pull through. She just had to get him back to her medbay and under a fresh biotic field, at least a dozen more surgeries…

“Hey, Doc,” Jesse said. His tone suggested that it’s not the first time he’s said it. “I brought you some coffee. We’re set to touch down here in a bit.” He held out one of the large, white mugs with the Overwatch insignia emblazoned on it. 

Angela accepted it gratefully. It wasn’t until she cupped it between her hands that she realized how tired she was. Exhaustion seeped into every fiber of her being and it was all she could do to just hold on to the warm mug. 

“D’you think he’ll make it?” Jesse gestured at her patient before stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. It was a nervous habit of his, Angela had noticed over time. Like he tried to make himself smaller. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. 

“Do you know who he is?” 

Angela took a sip of coffee before answering. The amount of sugar in it made her wince but it was hot and caffeinated so she took another sip. “I haven’t checked his things yet.” She gestured over to the pitiful pile on the table next to her. Once it might have been expensive silk, but she cut away the last tatters to during her frantic surgery. Her patient now had a sheet covering him to protect his modesty. There was also a beautiful katana, also bloodied that made Angela shiver. 

Jesse reached out to pick through the pile but drew his hand back at the last second. 

“There’s so much blood,” he whispered. He looked back at Angela and the stranger she saved with an expression she’d seen before. The first time she had used her Resurrection technology in the field and brought Jack back from the brink everyone had had the same look. Like they were simultaneously in awe and afraid. Like she had done something beyond the realm of human capability. 

“He’s stable now, though,” Angela said before Jesse could fall too far into the realm of imagination. He’d called her magical once. She’d swatted at him and told him it was science. “I’m keeping him sedated until I can reassess his condition back at the watch point and even then I’m hesitant to wake him up until he’s healed more.” He might not even want to wake up, she thought sadly. 

The remaining features on his body not cruelly hacked apart were muscular and healthy, suggesting that he had been active. A beautiful and intricate green tattoo of what Angela thought might have been a dragon curls up what is left of one of his thighs. He had high cheekbones now cruelly slashed, and if his jaw hadn’t been shattered he might have been handsome. 

Jesse left her to monitor her patient’s vitals by herself, citing cleaning his weapons as an excuse, but Angela knew that the gunslinger hated med bays and the smell of too much antiseptic spooked him. She didn’t mind the solitude. The quiet beeps from the monitors are reassuring and she dozed in the final minutes before they touched down in Gibraltar.

She was so tired when they landed that she wasn’t entirely certain how she ended up back in her familiar medbay, looking at her patient’s vitals again on a much larger screen. She’d already uploaded most of the data she’d gathered during her initial frantic assessments. 

“He won’t thank you for this, you know.”

Angela looked up from her work to find Gabriel leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. It looked like he’d had time to shower and change into his favorite sweats. Angela wondered how long they’d been back at the watch point. 

“I’ve saved his life,” she said.

Gabriel shook his head. “That’s not gonna matter to him when he wakes up. All he’ll care about is how he lost everything.”

“But not his life,” Angela argued. Surely a young man like him would revel at the second chance...for what feels like the hundredth time Angela wished that she knew what his name was. She knew his blood type, knew he had a beautiful tattoo rising up his thigh, knew he was Japanese..but that was all. The fingerprints from his remaining hand didn’t match anything in any of Overwatch’s databases and the destruction of his jaw prevented her from matching him against any dental records. Looking down at him, she wondered if she should look again so she’ll at least have a name to use.

Instead she shooed Gabriel out of the room and started to wake him up. She was careful to leave enough morphine in his system that he shouldn’t feel too much pain, just a pleasant floating sensation. Several minutes passed before his eyes begin to flutter. Heart in her throat, Angela waited for the young man to finally wake up. 

His reaction was almost instantaneous. One minute his eyes were still closed and the next he rocketed forward, like he was trying to scramble away from something. A scream ripped free from his tattered throat and all at once Angela regretted waking him up so soon. She tried to firmly but gently get him to lay back down, placing one hand on the part of his chest that wasn’t covered in bandages while the other deftly injected more morphine into his system.

“It’s alright,” she said, struggling to get him to calm down. Even in his state he was stronger than she had anticipated. “You’re alright now.” 

His eyes were panicked and frenzied when they met hers, like a cornered animal. As more morphine hit his system, his gaze got more unfocused but the pain and terror were still there.

“My name is Doctor Angela Ziegler. Can you hear me?” She asked. He stopped looking wildly around the room and instead stared at her. She took that as a yes. “Good, that’s good! I’m afraid you’ve had a…” she trailed off, trying to think of the best way to sum up his injuries. She settled on, “a bit of an accident. But you’re stable now and that’s all that matters.” As introductions go, it could have gone better because he promptly passed out, but Angela took it as a blessing. 

She should’ve been ready for a response like that. The man had obviously been involved in some sort of...well Angela hesitated to call it a fight when he had injuries like that, but no car crash was responsible for his injuries. She had stitched up enough knife wounds on Blackwatch member to know a sharp blade when she saw one. The floor suddenly seemed to spin under her and she reached for the chair again. Her hands shook as she forced herself to take deep breaths. She was a professional, a doctor, a scholar, and a member of Overwatch. It was her job to save people and help them in any way she could. As she looked at the wreckage of a man lying on her table she wondered just how far she would have to go for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Angela woke slowly and sat up. When she realized she wasn’t curled up in her bed, she blinked at her surroundings in confusion. A piece of paper stuck to her forehead and she peeled it off. The dim lighting threw her off until recollections from the previous night filtered through her sleep addled brain. She was still in the medbay and her watch said it was only three in the morning. Wondering what woke her up, she stood and stretched, humming with pleasure when her back popped. There was a grunt from behind her and she whirled around. 

He was awake!

“Hello,” she said softly and smiled. She kept her movements slow and deliberate so he could see what she was doing. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him undue stress. His eyes followed her movements around the room. She checked his vitals on the monitors surrounding his bed and then checked his bandages. His right arm had been severed just above the elbow and there wasn’t any leakage from the wound so Angela was satisfied. His legs were both gone at around the same spot, just above the knee. His left leg was in a similar state to his arm, but there was a bit if discoloration on his bandages that gave Angela pause. She would have to change it and probably drain the wound again. But his left leg, the one with the dragon tattoo was in remarkable condition. It looked like his...accident had occurred days ago, if not weeks rather than the day before. If she was going to attach cybernetics she would need to do it soon. Stunned, she took careful note of the advanced healing around the stump and moved to stand at the foot of his bed where her patient could see her without turning his head. 

“I don’t know if you remember me or if you even speak English, but my name is Doctor Angela Ziegler. You’ve been through a lot but I want you to know that you’re safe now.”

He stared at her. There was no emotion in his gaze now. 

“Um, well you’re at an Overwatch watchpoint,” she continued to fill the silence. “There are some other agents here that you might see wandering around.Most of them are pretty harmless so you don’t need to worry about them.” Those brown eyes stared glumly at her and she sighed before continuing. “I won’t lie to you,” she began and closed her eyes. “Your injuries are extensive, but that doesn’t mean you can’t come back from them.” When she opened her eyes her patient had turned his face as far away from her as he could. With his neck injuries it wasn’t far. “Your left leg has healed remarkably fast. If you are willing I could begin the procedure for a cybernetic replacement.” She knew it sounded cruel, to immediately offer a replacement leg without giving him time to come to terms with his injuries, but time was of the essence. If she waited longer, the surgery would be more complicated and invasive. 

She didn’t want to leave him alone, not when his condition was still so precarious. Against all odds he didn’t have a fever and some of the swelling around his face had gone down significantly. Resolved to keep him company even if he didn’t want it, Angela refluffed his pillows and propped him up and set out to finish some paperwork. She made a fresh pot of coffee and dragged the closest stack of paper towards her. The mission report still needed filing and she needed to submit her log. 

Angela was on her second cup of coffee and looking over schematics for a cybernetic leg when Jack and Gabriel came in together. And they weren’t alone. She recognized the two men in suits as representatives from the UN but she had never learned their names. One wore glasses and the other had hair so neat it looked artificial. Between one breath and the next she realized why they were there. They had done the same thing after she had stitched Jesse up that first time. They were here for recruitment. They wanted him.

She jumped to her feet so quickly she almost spilled her coffee. “He can’t have any visitors right now. He’s still in a lot of pain.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ziegler,” Jack said, his tone like steel. In this moment he wasn’t her friend, he was Strike Commander. 

She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. It was too soon, he was in no condition to start fighting again.

“But--”

“I’m sorry, Doctor Ziegler,” Artificial Hair said. “We’re going to need you to stay outside for now.”

She glared at him and then stared furiously between Jack and Gabe. Jack wouldn’t meet her gaze but looked somewhere over her shoulder instead. Gabe shrugged as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she stepped aside.

“He’s still my patient and I still have to clear it before anything happens.”

“Might I remind you that you work for us, Doctor,” said Glasses. With that he stepped into her medbay and the door closed in her face. 

Anxiety clawed at her stomach as she paced back and forth. She knew how this would all play out. They were going to turn him into a weapon, a killing machine. They would send him out with Gabriel and Jesse, baptize him in blood and then bring him back to her to stitch back up. She pinched the bridge of her nose to try and alleviate the headache that crept up.  
Time passed slowly for her while she waited out in the hall. She took her hair down out of its ponytail to fiddle with the tie, then put it back up, then took it down again. She usually wasn’t this prone to nervousness and wondered what was so different about this case. Maybe it was because she had seen him in such a vulnerable state or maybe it was because she still didn’t know his name. But the thought of him going out on Blackwatch missions terrified her. 

The clothes he had been wearing when she found him had had to be thrown away. The only thing worth saving from his personal affects was the katana. She had cleaned it the best she could and locked it in a cabinet in her office. The only key to it sat heavily in the pocket of her lab coat. 

Jack left the medbay first, walking so quickly that he almost ran her over. Gabe followed closely at his heels. Neither of them so much as glanced at her. 

“You will perform the first cybernetic surgery tomorrow morning, Doctor Ziegler,” she was informed by Artificial Hair. 

“I cannot perform a surgery without consent from my patient,” she responded coolly, wishing she had put her hair back up. She didn’t look very intimidating or professional with it all over the place in disarray. 

“He consented,” said Glasses as he buttoned his coat. 

Angela stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“He even signed off on the consent form,” Glasses held up said document and there, at the bottom she saw something scribbled in Japanese.

“But this document is in English!” she argued, wishing she could read Japanese so that she would know his name. “How can you be sure he understood everything you told him?”

“Because, Dr. Ziegler,” Artificial Hair said like he was speaking to a kindergartener, “Agent Shimada speaks English. Good day, Doctor. We’ll ensure you have everything you need tomorrow morning at 0500.” With that the two men left.

Agent Shimada.

“Shimada,” Angela said out loud, testing how the syllables felt in her mouth. She had a name to call him by now. Despite the circumstances, she re-entered her medbay with a smile on her face.  
Agent Shimada was still propped up in bed with the pillows she had set up earlier. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the giant grin plastered across her face. 

“Hello, Agent Shimada. My name is Doctor Angela Ziegler,” she said and stuck out her hand. He stared at her outstretched hand for a long time before he carefully reached out his hand. Only a slight wrinkling around his eyes suggested he was in pain. 

“Shimada Genji,” he said in a cracked, hoarse voice. “Call me Genji.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Angela said happily and beamed at him. His hand was rough and calloused and it was only after he painfully cleared his throat that she realized she had held onto it for just a little too long. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks as she dropped it. 

Worry overcame her embarrassment and she asked, “Are you sure you want to go through with this? It’s going to be a long, uncomfortable surgery and there are...significant risks. I want to make sure that this is really what you want.” 

He glanced away. “I am sure.”

Angela deflated a bit and watched him with something like sorrow twisting in her gut. “Okay, Mr. Shimada. I’ll start getting everything in order.” She left him still sitting up in bed and went to take stock of her supplies.


	3. Chapter 3

Moira arrived early the next morning as Angela prepped her patient for surgery. As always, the sight of the Irish woman made Angela’s skin crawl. Moira’s relationship with medicine was akin to a spider looking at an insect caught in its web and after working with her a handful of times Angela had decided that the two of them would never get along. That didn’t stop the other woman flirting with her near every chance she got. Moira seemed to live for pushing all of Angela’s buttons. 

“Good morning, Angela,” Moira drawled. “I see you’ve started prepping my patient. Good.”

Angela bristled at that and put down the stethoscope she’d had pressed against Genji’s chest. “Mr. Shimada is my patient.” 

Moira laughed and muttered something about how easy it was to ruffle Angela’s feathers. She glided further into the medbay and set about helping her with the rest of the surgery prep. 

Genji would shift the best he could when asked but snarled like a feral cat each time. She recognized it as an attempt to not look weak and afraid. She would have chided him to save his throat muscles the trouble but sometimes Angela felt that snarling at Moira was the only way to deal with her. She pretended that every growl was intended just for Moira and stayed cool and collected. Conducting a surgery as complicated as this one already had her nerves jangling about. The last thing she needed was another distraction. 

Just as Angela had warned, the surgery was a long, complicated, and grueling process. It took a team of six surgeons working under her direction to pull it off. When it came time to attach the artificial nerves to their living counterparts, they needed Genji awake to let them know if something went wrong. The carbon fiber titanium shell that would become his new legs needed a sturdy anchor. Moira helpfully pointed out that it could also double as armor. A casing stretching across his abdomen was also fitted and calibrated for the two legs and the arm that it would support. 

After sixteen hours they had attached the left leg. 

If the surgeries were successful Genji faced a painful recovery while everything synchronized with his central nervous system. Angela would remain his main doctor, but since her field of expertise revolved more around trauma, Moira would oversee the majority of his physical therapy, something that chafed. She had to remind herself that Moira was a well respected doctor, even if she didn’t agree with her field of research. Moira looked at Genji and saw a way to create another weapon, while Angela saw him as someone who needed help and healing that went deeper than his terrible wounds. 

After the final round of surgeries, Angela got Genji settled back in his bed to rest. Right now, his new limbs probably felt like a foreign, dead weight even though they were state of the art. He was on a potent cocktail of painkillers and Angela hoped that he wouldn’t remember most of the surgeries. How he had sustained his injuries would be scarring enough without more trauma to heap on.  
She hummed quietly while she flitted around the room, checking Genji’s vitals, retucking the corners of his sheets, trying to let him know that he wasn’t alone even if he didn’t want to talk. Not for the first time, Angela tried to imagine what could have possibly have happened that resulted in him laying in a pool of his own blood and how he had even survived. He stared resolutely at the wall and she decided that now was not the time to ask. 

She forbade Genji from leaving his bed. “Your body needs time to adjust and I don’t want you falling out and complicating matters.” He gave her a look that she chose to interpret as acknowledgment rather than an angry ‘go fuck yourself.’ The current circumstances let her ignore his rudeness. She would probably tell people the same thing if she was in his position too. 

“Athena, will you play something from my music files?” Angela asked the AI before she started filing away paperwork. “You know which one.”

“Of course, Dr. Zieger,” Athena responded. Almost immediately a soothing melody came softly from the overhead speakers. Angela kept a list of old classical music handy for winding down at the end of the day. She heard what might have been a snort out of Genji but chose to ignore it. He was probably rolling his eyes too. 

Several hours passed with nothing but the faint sounds of classical music filtering through the sterile medbay air. Angela went through cup after cup of coffee, trying to ignore the nagging voice at the back of her head that sounded like Agent Amari warning her against the perils of too much caffeine. She needed to get everything squared away so that Genji Shimada could become Overwatch’s newest asset, so long as his recuperation went according to plan. The papers needed one last line inked in when a blood curdling scream ripped through the air. 

Angela knocked over her mug and the coffee ruined all over her hard work but she was already running away from her desk. She knew who the source of the scream was even before she jumped up. 

Genji was tangled up in his sheets, writhing around. At first, she thought it was out of agony but then she spotted the look on his face. He was dreaming. And if she had to guess, he was dreaming about how he had almost died. He shouted something in Japanese and Angela’s heart twisted. She needed to calm him down before he hurt himself. She could already see blood leaking through some of the bandages.

“Genji, you need to wake up,” she said as she approached the side of his bed. She didn’t want to startle him more and risk him lashing out at her, but she also didn’t want to let the dream run its course. 

He said something else in Japanese and this time it sounded like he was pleading with someone. His voice broke over the syllables for one of the few words Angela actually knew in Japanese--’Nii-san.’ 

Brother.

Suddenly Angela found it hard to breath. Ice filled her veins as she tried again to wake Genji up. Surely, he had only called out to his brother for help or maybe she had misunderstood...but Genji called again, this time in pain and anguish.

“Genji, wake up!” She ordered and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. 

All at once he jerked awake at her touch and his whole body jack knifed off the bed. He took in a huge, shuddering breath and exhaled out a sob. He pulled away from her touch and promptly started hyperventilating. His eyes locked with hers and they were wide and frightened. 

She kept her hand on his shoulder and began to exaggerate her own breath. “I need you to breath for me, Genji. In and out, just like me.” He grabbed her forearm and held on so tightly she could feel her bones creak. His touch was fever hot and she could feel his hand shaking. Minutes passed and eventually their breathing synced up. Genji stopped shaking and relaxed back against his pillows.  
Gradually, he loosened his grip on her arm as he got control of his breathing. She watched as the terror faded from his face and a frozen mask slipped down in its place. The change was startling. Painfully aware that she had just witnessed something he was ashamed of, Angela drew back. Genji let go of her arm and turned away. The sudden silence became unbearable and Angela awkwardly cleared her throat. 

“I need to change some of your gauze,” she said to break the silence. Genji made a noise of acknowledgment in the back of his throat and Angela busied herself with opening drawers and putting on gloves. 

She carefully peeled back the dressings that needed to be changed and couldn’t help but tsk at the damage Genji’s thrashing had caused to the still sensitive tissue where flesh met metal. 

“I can give you something to help you sleep,” she offered. 

Her patient stayed silent. 

“It will take some time,” she said, “to come to terms with what’s happened to you.” She knew that she needed to tread carefully, but she was dying to ask him exactly what had happened. “You need to be patient.” The pulse point beneath her fingers was the only giveaway that she wasn’t speaking to a statue. She sighed and said quietly, “I’ll be here if you need me.” 

A few more maneuvers and all of his dressings had been changed. She tidied up the rest of the room as best she could, retucked the corners of his sheets, all the while humming under her breath. 

Angela was almost out of the room before she heard him speak, so quiet it was nearly lost in the noise of the air conditioning unit. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was such a short chapter! This is probably going to be the last chapter of exposition stuff and we're going to delve into the good stuff after this. Thank you so much for reading! Y'all's support means everything!


	4. Chapter 4

The nanoprobes accelerated the healing process leaps and bounds ahead of where it would’ve been just a few years ago. Even with that taken into account, Angela was still floored by how quickly Genji recovered and grew accustomed to his new body. She was able to clear him for physical therapy, something that she was profoundly grateful for because since he had uttered those two words in thanks, her patient suddenly seemed incapable of shutting up for longer than five minutes. He grumbled incessantly when she had to check his dressings, swearing rudely when she arrived in the medbay in the morning, and all around bitched every time he saw her. Unluckily for both of them, Angela happened to work in the medbay where Genji was suffering through his recovery.

Once, Angela had thought that she possessed a bottomless well of patience that had served her across the years in her medical practice. Now however, that well was drying up faster than a stray raindrop in the Sahara. She found herself snapping back at him and more than once contemplating the practicality of the Hippocratic Oath when dealing with unruly patients. 

When Moira arrived to collect Genji for his first physical therapy session Angela resisted the very real urge to throw her arms around the other doctor in gratitude. She had to force herself to maintain her characteristic kindness.

“It’s excellent that you’re able to start your therapy!” Angela said to Genji aloud while internally she rejoiced that he would be out of her medbay for at least an hour. An hour of solitude! She squashed her guilt down by telling herself that Genji leaving her medbay was also good because that meant that he was recovering. 

“Get me out of this dump,” Genji said to Moira. Angela instantly felt less guilty at his tone. He swung his legs to the side of the bed with a whirring of fans and gears and Angela automatically moved with Moira to help steady him. 

“What’s the matter? Does someone’s bedside manner need working on?” Moira practically leered at her. “Because I would love to help with that.” 

Angela glared at her but held her tongue. The last thing she wanted was to give Genji more ammunition for when he verbally poked and prodded her throughout the day. “Make sure you pay attention to his heart rate. We’ve put a lot of strain on his heart recently and--”

“Must I remind you again that I’m a doctor too, Angela?” Moira snapped, interrupting her lecture. 

Angela felt her cheeks turn pink. “I apologize.” She glanced over at Genji who looked ready to leave. “I worry about my patients.” As much as she looked forward to him leaving her medbay, she was also terrified that there would be some sort of major complication during these first crucial days when he started relearning how to do everything. She hadn’t found any record of cybernetic surgeries as intensive as what Genji had been through. If Angela was a religious woman she would proclaim it a miracle that he had survived. As things stood though, she was a doctor, a scientist, and once he became more stable she thoroughly planned on figuring out just what it was that allowed Genji to recover so quickly. 

In the meantime she would settle for getting him out of her medbay for the afternoon. 

Genji managed to fumble his way out of the room with minor assistance from Angela and Moira. There was a small gym directly across from the medical bay, used expressly for physical therapy when one of Overwatch’s agents required a more lengthy stay in the medical facilities. Moira closed the door in Angela’s face with a smirk. 

Angela glared at the door and made herself take a deep breath and then exhale. Some of the tension that she had carried around in her shoulders for days trickled away like melting ice. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to let her take what felt like her first full breath in days. Now that Genji was safely occupied doing something other than annoy her, she had to find another way to occupy her time. 

Coffee. She could go and get a fresh cup of coffee. 

Smiling slightly at the prospect, Angela tucked a tablet under her arm and made her way through the rabbit warren tunnels of the Gibraltar watchpoint to the kitchen. There was a shocking lack of other people in the kitchen. Usually, at least three people were in the too small room at all times, knocking elbows and practically climbing over one another to reach the shelves. And that was without Reinhardt in the room. To Angela, the lack of people was another blessing in addition to her empty medbay and relished the ability to grab a clean mug from the cabinet without having to elbow someone out of the way. She took her time measuring out the coffee grounds to ensure the darkest cup of coffee their machine could produce and was content to take a seat at the table to stare off into space while she waited. 

The coffee maker chortled happily on the counter and Angela took out her tablet and started idly flicking through the headlines. The Deadlock trials were finally wrapping up and Angela felt a surge of relief. Overwatch had managed to keep Jesse out of the trials and even though the young cowboy rarely spoke about his time with the gang, she knew that he would rest easier with them behind bars instead of hunting him down. An image of a bloodied and battered Jesse flashed through her mind and she scolded herself for thinking so darkly and moved on through the rest of the news. 

A story from Japan caught her eye, a short article lacking any real detail announcing the reconstruction of the castle in Hanamura after a fire. The Shimada family apologized in advance for the inconvenience of construction noise that would surely follow.  
Shimada. 

Her finger hovered over the pad, desperate to search for more details of this fire at the castle. But she also didn’t want to pry into Genji’s personal affairs. And this line of searching would no doubt turn very personal. Everyone at Overwatch had a past. Everyone joined to make a difference with a fresh start, free from whatever ghosts lay with the past. 

_“I hope this haunts you for the rest of your goddamned life.”_

Angela closed the news and opened a game of solitaire instead. The past should stay past. She got up a few minutes later to fix herself a cup of coffee only this time she didn’t put any sugar in it. 

***

She ran into Reinhardt on her way back to the medical bay. As usual, the big man was thrilled to see her and eager to hear about her work. 

“How is our newest colleague?” He asked. “I haven’t met him myself but I hear that he has astounding abilities.”

“Is that so?” Angela raised an eyebrow. She wondered who was already spreading rumors about the man who until very recently had been stuck lying in bed all day. 

“I would very much like to meet him!” 

Angela thought to the way Genji had snarled at her that morning and answered honestly. “Mr. Shimada has been through a lot in a very short amount of time, Reinhardt. As his doctor I can’t clear him for visitors yet. He still needs time to...recover.” Maybe his manners would recover along with his body. 

Reinhardt nodded sympathetically. “Yes, of course,” the edges of his mouth turned down in a frown and Angela knew from experience that he was thinking about his own past injuries. He shook himself and his smile returned. “When will you join us for dinner again, Angela? We miss you.” 

She felt a small pang of guilt. Usually, everyone who wasn’t off on mission met together for dinner. At first it was an enforced bonding experience, so that everyone could get to know everyone else without the risk of gunfire (although whenever Jesse showed up there was still that possibility), but now it was a ritual. The little family that formed the core of Overwatch’s agents could meet together and relax, taking turns with the cooking and cleaning up and just pretend to be normal people for a time, however short. 

“I’m sorry, Reinhardt. I’ll try to make more of an effort.” 

“Good.” He clapped her on the shoulder hard enough to make her knees nearly buckle and headed in the direction of the gym. 

Genji was already back in his bed by the time Angela made it back to the medbay. She greeted him cheerfully just like she always did and braced herself for the inevitable barb that he would throw her way. But instead of some acidic retort, he muttered a quiet, “Hello,” back. He sounded exhausted. 

Taken aback by his response, Angela turned into his room instead of heading into her office like she had initially planned. “How was it with Dr. O’Deorain?” She asked, taking a seat in the spare chair next to his bedside.

He gave her an inscrutable look before turning away to stare at the ceiling. “It was…” he trailed off and swallowed painfully. The brace holding his jaw together clinked softly. 

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Shimada?” 

His gaze bored into her and Angela found herself wondering what he would look like when the rest of the bruises faded. Handsome, she thought and then immediately wanted to smack herself upside the head. A doctor could never get involved with their patients. She had learned that lesson the hard way.

_“I hope this haunts you for the rest of your goddamned life.” ___

__Suddenly her heart started beating faster and a familiar dread crept into her stomach._ _

__“I thought I told you to call me Genji,” he said, bringing her back from that dangerous line of thinking._ _

__She forced herself to smile. “I’m sorry. Can I do anything for you, Genji?”_ _

__There was a rumor of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You can tell me about yourself.”_ _

__She blinked in surprise. Just a few hours ago she had been sure that he would’ve torn her head off given the chance and now he seemed perfectly charming and curious about her. She supposed he just wanted to learn more about Overwatch and its members in addition to a desire to banish the boredom that lying around in a hospital bed can bring. Well, if he behaved himself she had no problem with keeping him company. And besides, maybe she would share a story or two about some of the hijinks she had gotten up to with Overwatch._ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this on an airplane and typed it up on my phone in the airport so if there are any weird typos or anything please let me know!
> 
> As always y'all are the best and thanks so much for reading!

The weeks passed slowly at first. Angela would wake Genji up in the morning and run diagnostics to make sure that everything was working properly and that his organic body wouldn’t start rejecting the foreign material that had become his body. Moira would arrive to flirt with Angela and collect Genji for physical therapy. Angela would ignore her as usual and remind Genji to be careful and pace himself. He would nod obligingly and occasionally come back with a witty retort that made her laugh.

They fell into a routine. After running her morning diagnostics to make sure everything still functioned nominally, she would try to coax Genji to the mess hall for breakfast with the other members of Overwatch, but he always refused. He didn't like eating in front of people. His broken jaw had healed well along with the rest of his injuries, but the scarring was severe and chewing still painful. Those first few days Angela listened to his protests that she go and enjoy the company of the others.

“Do not worry about me, Dr. Ziegler. I have this thing to keep me company,” he said, gesturing at the computer terminal next to his bed. All manner of wires connected his cybernetic limbs to it, still charging from the night before. “We have more in common now, after all.” His voice dripped sarcasm, but she caught a sharper edge to it, hidden beneath the words like a snake in the grass. She stopped leaving him alone after that, instructing Athena to keep an eye on him when she left the room and inviting Jesse to come and sit with him.

They were roughly the same age, she figured, although Jesse still refused to let anyone know how old he actually was. He changed his birthday around throughout the year to whatever day suited him best, but Angela had always taken him to be a couple of years her junior.

The first time Genji and Jesse met she caught a glimpse of the pair through the window in her office, one dully glinting metal and the other scruffy enough to put a stray dog to shame. Jesse leaned way back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, staring Genji down. If looks could kill, Genji would have murdered Jesse the moment he stepped foot in the room. As it was, however be just crossed his cybernetic arm over his chest and stared back.

“Are you really a cowboy?” Genji bit out finally.

“Are you really a ninja?” Jesse shot back.

Angela watched a rumor of a smile form at the corners of Genji’s mouth and released the breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding.

She still fussed over Genji throughout the day and doubly so before and after Moira collected him for physical therapy. All of her checkups came back in the green and after his sessions with Moira he would come back to her, exhausted yes, but still in one piece.

About a month after she had first found Genji bleeding out in a gutter on the streets of Hanamura, Angela sat in one of the watchpoint’s common rooms, enjoying an afternoon cup of coffee with Lena, their newest recruit. Angela’s comm buzzed in her pocket.

“Excuse me,” she said politely before fishing it out.

“Doc, doc, you gotta get down here, quick!”

She lept to her feet and ignored the sound of china breaking as her coffee cup shattered on the ground. “It's Genji,” Jesse choked out. She could hear the sharp, electric sound of exposed wiring in the background.

“Where are you?”

“Number 3.”

Angela was out the door and racing down the hall toward the practice ranges before he finished speaking. She cursed herself for not bringing her staff with her. But who could've predicted that she would need it?

_Ihr müsst immer bereit sein_ , the words from her past echoed through her. We must always be ready.

“Lena, run to the medbay and grab my staff,” Angela instructed the girl over commlink. “Meet me at practice range number three.”

“You got it!” the girl chirped in reply.

A thousand different images of Genji lying in various states of injury flickered through her mind, each more gruesome than the last. She finally skidded to a halt outside the double doors shutting her out of the practice range.

“Athena, let me in,” she commanded just as Lena arrived with her staff held carefully with both hands.

The few seconds it took for Athena to cycle open the door lasted for eons until at last Angela was able to squeeze through the doors before they had slid open completely. Lena followed at her heels.

“Over here, Doc!” Jesse called from the left.

“What happened?” she demanded, hurrying over.

“I don't know! One minute he was fine and the next--” he gestured helplessly.

Genji lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. His chest plates were cracked open like an egg, exposing the still tender scarring and the intricate network of wires and fiber optics underneath. Screws and gears that had come loose were scattered around him like a child’s game of marbles. As she surveyed the damage a shower of sparks shot up from his arm. Genji himself was unconscious.

“Woah,” she heard Lena gasp out, long and low like a prayer offered to the heavens.

“This is a shooting range, Jesse McCree,” Angela said, fury building now that she knew Genji was not in mortal danger. “How did this happen?”

“Well, y’see,” Jesse began his explanation and Angela snatched her staff back from Lena. She fixed the beam on Genji to make sure his organic body was unharmed. “We got bored of shooting--Moira has this great idea for loading shuriken into Genji’s arm by the way. It's gonna be totally bad ass--”

“Jesse!” Angela snapped.

“Ah, right. Sorry. Well we got bored of shooting and Genji wanted to see if he was better at climbing like this than he was...before and well…” he trailed off looking guilty.

“Climbing?” she repeated and looked up at the steel wall that loomed over them. The only handholds she could spy were where the rivets connected the plates. But surely…

“He got pretty high too before he just sort of seized up and fell. Is he gonna be alright?”

She pursed her lips and took in the damage again. “I believe so.”

“What should I do with these?” Angela turned to find Lena cradling the loose screws and gears in both hands. While Angela had been cataloging Genji’s damage, Lena had gathered up all of his missing pieces.

 

 

Several nerve wracking and painstaking hours later Genji was more or less put back together. He woke up in a surprisingly good mood and even cracked a Humpty Dumpty joke that had Jesse wiping tears from his eyes but made Angela frown.

“Please be careful, Genji,” she pleaded. “We still don't know how well all of this is going to work. Most of your tech is still technically in the prototype stage.”

“I apologize,” he said but didn't quite meet her eye.

She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Genji had been disappointed that he had woken up after his fall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Angela is kind of a snoop...

“Make sure you pay attention to the amount of stress your joints are taking,” Angela said for what was perhaps the thousandth time. Genji nodded but rolled his eyes too. He had stopped mouthing off as much to her and instead had taken to absorbing most of her lectures with little more than a glazed over expression with the occasional snort or eyeroll. “I don’t want you stranded in some back alley where who knows what is waiting for you and then the next thing I know I get a call from Gabriel telling me--” 

“Telling you that everything is fine and we’re on our way back, mission accomplished.” Gabriel had arrived to collect his newest addition to Blackwatch. Angela couldn’t help the frown that pulled down at the corners of her mouth. 

“Gabriel,” she said stiffly. She resisted the urge to stand between him and Genji. Her job as a healer was done. She’d done as Overwatch had asked and put Genji back together to be an assassin for Blackwatch. He’d healed up nicely, passed his physical therapy with flying colors, and had been training almost nonstop with the rest of Blackwatch’s agents, waiting for his first official mission as a killing machine. 

He had even modified his arm to have a handy shuriken dispenser, courtesy of Moira. 

“I take care of my own, Doc. No need to be nervous.” 

Jesse sauntered in behind him as if to punctuate the statement. He leaned up against the doorway, arms crossed over his big chest. He’d grown since he had first been brought in all those years ago, dusty from the American Southwest and a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. Her heart clenched painfully. 

“Alright, Ninja. Let’s go,” Gabriel beckoned at Genji who slid quietly off the table with a grace that would have been difficult to imagine back when he had just recovered from his injuries. Gabriel stalked out of the room and Jesse followed, spurs ringing. Genji watched them go. He turned back to Angela with an inscrutable expression beneath his visor. For a fleeting moment, she thought he was going to say something to her, but the seconds ticked by and he just continued to stare at her. 

“Ninja!” Gabriel called from down the hall. Genji turned abruptly, like a dog trained to its master’s call and Angela felt another stab at her heart. Jesse and Genji both belonged to Gabriel now. She could stitch them back together and send them on their way, but they belonged in the shadows of Blackwatch. Genji nodded curtly at her and slid out the door, gears quietly whirring. 

 

They were gone for three days. Not that she was keeping track of them or anything and had anyone asked, Angela would politely inform them that it was merely professional concern. After all, she was the head surgeon of an extremely experimental surgery and wanted to make sure that all of her modifications and adjustments performed nominally during their first real field test. 

Not that she actually saw anyone during those three days.

There was no Jesse, jangling spurs heralding his arrival, stomping in to her medbay with his head down and a sheepish expression to hold out his finger, showing her where he had accidentally cut himself with a kitchen knife and needed stitches. There was no Genji, whirring in with one leg awkwardly stiff behind him, complaining that Angela needed to help him unstick his joints for the hundredth time. Between the two of them, she usually had company in her medbay almost every day even without the rest of the Watchpoint occasionally filtering through. But with the two most injury prone agents at the Watchpoint out on assignment, Angela found herself with a remarkable amount of free time. 

It left her with enough free time to sit in her office with one finger poised about the ‘enter’ button on her pad next to the inquiry 

 

\-- _ Genji Shimada-- _

 

long enough for Athena to ask if she was alright.

“Dr. Ziegler, do you require assistance?” The AI asked.

Angela almost jumped out of her skin. “No, no, no thank you, Athena. I’m alright.” 

“You seem to be exhibiting an inability to make a decision. Allow me to assist.” The screen on the wall next to her switched from a soothing picture of the Swiss Alps over to Athena’s sigil before being eclipsed by news articles and headlines featuring a young man dressed in expensive clothing, flashing a dazzling smile in some photos or rude gestures in others. In one corner she saw something that looked like grainy cell phone footage of people on the second floor of a club. The person in the foreground chugged liquor directly from a bottle before smashing it on the ground and jumping up onto the handrail. They swayed a little before dancing. Then they swayed again and fell over the side. The video ended just as the person taking it began laughing. A second view of the video showed Genji to be the one leaping onto the railing. Angela quickly closed it. 

“Athena, I don’t need to see this,” she said, but continued to browse through Genji’s personal history, recorded on the internet for all time. She told herself that she needed to know his past history with alcohol consumption as his doctor.

She scrolled through several articles about a young yakuza prince being generous with his monetary spending and romantic relationships. One article shouted a headline claiming that Genji Shimada was dating three people at once. She closed that one quickly too. Maybe she didn’t need to know his past sexual history too. Even as his doctor. 

_ Self proclaimed doctor _ , part of her cheerfully informed her.  _ That could always change _ .

Angela pushed that thought firmly to the side and continued browsing. She found an old article with just a mention of his name, announcing his victory at a junior judo tournament when he was eleven. The thought made her smile. She continued to flick through the information picked up from Athena’s search.  A picture came up, this one clearly the most recent, of two men standing side by side, both dressed formally and looking directly at the camera. One had an imperious expression with long hair pulled back into a tail at the base of his neck. He glared at the camera so hard she was surprised the lense hadn’t cracked. And the other man…

Had Genji’s eyes. 

He smiled brightly too and had two of his fingers raised up in a peace sign. Despite the obvious difference in posture and facial expression, there was something about the two men that pointed to familiarity. Genji had his other hand on the man’s shoulder and was leaning in to him.

Suddenly, the medbay was too big, too quiet, the white walls bright in a way that made Angela’s eyes hurt. She hurriedly shut off the screen and screwed her eyes shut and tried to figure out why she felt this way. 

If that was Genji there, smiling at the camera and holding up a peace sign, that other man had to be his brother, Hanzo Shimada. 

The reason why Angela had found Genji bleeding out in a gutter on the streets of Hanamura. 

She called up the image of Genji smiling next to his brother in her mind and felt her heart break all over again. What could have happened to push the brothers over such a horrifying line that Angela had to sew the pieces back together. Quite literally in some cases. 

If she ever met Hanzo Shimada she resolved to shoot him right between the eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short. I just want to try and get an update out there as often as possible. I really like this story but for whatever reason it's really difficult to write. WHY IS WRITING SO HARD D:


	7. Chapter 7

As it happened, Angela needn’t have worried about Genji. Instead, once the small Blackwatch task force returned after three days, it was one Gabriel Reyes, grumpy commander who needed to be stitched up in her medbay. A bullet had grazed by his side, leaving a long, angry gash against his ribs. It wasn’t bad, as bullet wounds went. What really had her tutting was the makeshift bandage of a sock and duct tape.

“Gabriel, do you know how unhygienic that was?” Angela demanded, throwing away the offending article. “Why didn’t you use something else? Something that made more sense?” She picked up a pair of scissors off of her tray. Even though Gabriel was a super soldier who healed quickly even without a biotic field, the wound was bad enough that she would have to give him stitches. The metal scrapped briefly against the tray, adding more fuel to the headache she could already feel forming out of anger. The big man shrugged in response and glowered harder.

She opened her mouth to respond, scissors pointed accusingly at Gabriel, just as Jack came skidding into the room, looking panicked. When he saw Angela and Gabriel glaring at each other, his shoulders came down from around his ears and she could practically see the tension and worry flutter away.

“So I hear from Jesse you went and did something stupid,” he said by way of greeting.

Gabriel shrugged again and turned to fix his glare on Jack. “I heal faster than him,” he said by way of explanation and Angela felt her scowl soften into something else. How could she say ‘Don’t do it again’ to something like that?

Jack sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. “I’ll talk to the kid about taking stupid chances again.”

“I’ll yell at him too,” Angela said, turning to her work on Gabriel’s side.

“Well if you’re gonna yell at him, make sure you yell at the ninja too,” her patient huffed. “He was running all over the place, scaling the walls unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He took some damn scary chances and cut through everything like he was filleting a damn fish.”

“Gabe--”

“I know, I know,” he waved a hand. “I’m not supposed to say too much, but shit, Doc,” he shook his head at Angela. “You made a hell of a cyborg ninja.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about Genji being called a cyborg ninja, but if the shoe fit…”Another addition to our crew of misfits, I suppose.”

Gabriel laughed and Jack used that as an excuse to leave the room. Angela finished stitching Gabriel back up soon after and sent him off but not without scolding him first. She couldn’t help herself. Athena cued up her playlist without having to be asked and Angela spent a pleasant few minutes cleaning up after herself and reorganizing her desk. She wondered if Genji would stop by after his first mission, just to check in.

_Probably not._

After all of the time he’d spent cooped up in the place, she wouldn’t blame him if he never came back. Since his fall, there had been no major malfunctions with Genji’s new body. Athena had identified the problem as a faulty connection between the wires in his wrist and his back and they had fixed it easily. He hadn’t had any major infections or illnesses, something Angela found incredible. There was no need for him to keep living in the medbay. She cast a glance at the small, private room he had been staying in during his time at the Watchpoint. The bed linens were tucked in tight and there wasn’t an ounce of personalization anywhere. No, she decided that she would talk to Winston about getting Genji assigned to his own quarters.

She heard the sound of the door cycling open and she spun around. She couldn’t help the disappointment when she saw it was Jesse who walked in, spurs jangling.

“Hey, Doc,” he greeted with a polite tip of his hat.

“You’re not here to tell me that you’ve got some injury that you hid from Gabriel are you?” She asked suspiciously.

“What? No!” Angela noted the way his eyes flickered off to the side when he protested. Interesting. “No, I was coming to let you know that we’re going to have a few drinks tonight. Welcome Lena into the team properly and the like.”

“Oh,” she said. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, and I guess we could extend it to welcoming Genji too since we never really got around to doing anything like that what with you sewing his arms and legs back on.”

“Jesse!”

He chuckled ruefully and rubbed his arm where she had smacked him. “I wish he was here to see the look on your face. It was only a joke, Doc.”

She resisted the urge to purse her lips and scold him. But she still narrowed her eyes at him.

“We’re going to start around seven in the common room. But things’ll really get started once the old people all go to bed.”

“Jesse,” she said, his comment startling a laugh out of her. “You realize that I am one of the ‘old people,’ right?”

He pressed his hand to his chest in mock horror. “Doc, we’re the same age!”

Angela blinked at him in shock. “The same...age…?”

This time real horror crossed Jesse’s face as he floundered to correct his comment. “No, no. I mean we’re like, kind of the same age? I don’t know, Doc like you look like maybe, I don’t know--”

Meanwhile Angela dove into her office to grab a pen and write it down before she somehow forgot the vital piece of information that Jesse had _willingly come forward with_ . It was now one of two things she actually knew about him personally. One, he was from the American Southwest, and now two, _they were the same age_.

She positively beamed at him. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Jesse. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’ll still tell people that you’re a dashing rogue with a past who won’t tell anyone what your real name is.”

Jesse narrowed his eyes at her but it was less intimidating over the embarrassed flush that had crept up his neck. “I’m still a dashing rogue,” he muttered mutinously before stomping out of the medbay.

Angela laughed and called, “I’ll see you at seven!” at his retreating back.

 

***

Angela spent a little more time fixing her hair and doing her makeup than she usually would before she headed out. After all, it was a party and the nicest thing she’d worn in ages was her lab coat so she wanted to look nice. It took her putting her hair up and taking it down again nearly ten times to decide that she wanted to leave it down. She put on a simple blue dress that she had brought with her to the watchpoint but hadn’t found a reason to wear yet and headed out the door before she could change her mind and throw her hair back up into a ponytail again.

Music played from Athena’s speakers in the ceiling and it looked like almost everyone was already there by the time she arrived. Someone had thoughtfully hung a banner that read ‘Welcome to the Family!’ in big block letters, with the last few written slightly smaller. A series of streamers in gold and white hung down from the rafters and strings of colored lights decorated the room as well. The sight made Angela pause in the doorway and smile.

“Angie!”

“Mei!” She gave her friend a hug. “I didn’t know you were here! Are all of these decorations yours?”

Mei smiled and nodded. “I thought things needed a little cheering up in here. This is supposed to be a party!” Angela laughed, happiness bubbling up inside her as Mei linked arms with her. “Now let’s get a drink.”

Someone (and Angela suspected that it was Mei) had set up a table with what looked like enough alcohol to sink a small ship. Angela felt her eyebrows fly up her brow. “I’m not sure if I can condone drinking this much…”

“Just because it’s there doesn’t mean you have to drink it, Angela,” Captain Amari said from her right. She poured herself a healthy portion of whiskey and raised her glass in a toast before wandering over to where Reinhardt sat in a tiny chair. The two of them toasted each other before tossing back their drinks and laughing together. Angela also spotted Jack and to her surprise, Gabriel standing off to the side. It looked like Gabriel was laughing at something that Jack had said. His mouth twitched up in the corner in his version of laughter. Moira lurked at the other end of the room, wine glass in hand. Before Angela could catch sight of anyone else, a blue light flashed by and suddenly Lena stood next to them, grinning from ear to ear and holding a bottle of beer.

“Hello, lovelies! It’s about time you showed up, Doc! You look _great_!” Lena winked at Angela before continuing, “we can’t let the boys beat us tonight. I’ve challenged them all to a drinking contest and I don’t want to lose.”

Mei and Angela shared a glance before shrugging at each other. There was still a voice in the back of her head telling her that she needed to be the responsible one, to make sure that no one over indulged and drank plenty of water, but the rest of her managed to squash that part down. She deserved a night off.

“Brilliant!” Lena chirped and poured them all shots of tequila.

“Oh, God,” Angela said before Lena counted down and the three women downed the shots.

“Visiting you all is always so fun!” Mei exclaimed.

That was the last thing that Angela could concretely remember about the night. Everything else happened in a blur of loud sounds and alcohol. She recalled doing shots with Lena and Mei with Moira joining them after the third or fourth round and Ana declaring that it was time for the “old people” to make way for the young before escorting Reinhardt and Torbjörn from the room. Jack and Gabriel stayed for a little longer before leaving as well. At some point, someone turned down the lights and cranked up the music and everyone who stayed back started dancing.

And that was when Angela really embarrassed herself.

 

***

Angela woke slowly the next morning. As soon as her head shifted on the pillow her stomach rolled and it felt like the room was spinning even with her eyes shut. She groaned and put her foot on the floor like a kickstand. When her foot touched the cold tile she whimpered, but the connection stopped the room from spinning so much. She felt a little less awful, but her throat was dry and it tasted like something had died in her mouth. She groaned and swallowed.

Water. She definitely needed water.

Slowly, every movement causing her head to spin more. Eyes still closed she put on her slippers and slid into the fluffy pink bathrobe that Mei had given her. If she was brave enough to open her eyes she would see cute little bunnies spread out over the soft fabric. Cracking open her eyes seemed like too much effort. Instead she shuffled slowly out of her bedroom, eyes still pinched shut, and into the little kitchenette that branched off of her living room.

She bypassed grabbing a glass down from one of the cabinets and drank straight from the faucet. The cool, crisp water did wonders for getting the dead taste out of her mouth but the extra liquid made her stomach roll again. Angela leaned against the counter and groaned again.

_I am never drinking with Lena ever again._

Bits and pieces of the night before flashed through her mind but nothing took root. She remembered dancing, a lot and drinking, a lot, and trying to get someone to dance with her but she couldn’t put her finger on who.

Coffee. She definitely needed coffee.

She tied her robe more securely around her waist and prepared to shuffle her way into her office where her coffeemaker lived. That first, beautifully exquisite cup of coffee was calling her name. She cycled the door open.

And walked face first into something remarkably solid that definitely wasn’t supposed to be in the middle of her doorway. She put her hands out automatically just as whatever she ran into put their hands on her waist and made a surprised sound. The slight whirring gave away who it was before she even opened her eyes.

“Genji?” She immediately regretted opening her eyes when the bright lights of the medbay behind him blinded her. A sharp stabbing pain joined the dizziness.

He looked equally startled at her abrupt appearance but he schooled his expression into his usual carefully aloof one. The mask he always wore. “Good morning, Angela. I came by to see how you were doing this morning after last night.”

“Last night?” she echoed, hands still resting lightly on his chest.

“Yes, you had...a lot to drink last night.” She watched the corner of his mouth rise up in a lopsided grin. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying dead on your bathroom floor.” He chuckled and she could feel the vibrations through her hands.

“Oh, _Gott,_ ” she said, covering her eyes with one hand. “I’m never drinking with Lena again.”

Genji laughed again, louder this time and it felt like he pulled her closer. The sound made little butterflies appear in her stomach, battling out the nausea. He had a nice laugh. A great laugh even. Angela squinted up at him against the light and thought that maybe, if she wasn’t so hung over and she didn’t have drinking-all-night breath…

All at once she realized that she was in nothing but a fluffy pink bathrobe and slippers and Genji had his arms around her waist. She couldn’t help the slight squeak that accompanied this thought or the way she suddenly beat a hasty retreat out of his arms.

The stabbing pain in her head came back with a vengeance. She could have sworn that Genji looked disappointed but soon enough the mask was back in place. “I may very well be dead soon,” she said to cover the awkward moment. “If I don’t get some coffee soon.”

He laughed again and she felt better. If she could bottle that sound for safekeeping she would. She was so busy thinking about how wonderful his laugh was that she didn’t even notice when he was no longer standing in the doorway with her. Angela followed the sound of things clanking together in her office and rounded the corner just as the seductive smell of coffee reached her.

“ _Gott sei Dank_ ,” she murmured.

“Do you always switch to German when you’re hungover?”

Was he... teasing her?

“Only during moments of high stress and emotion,” she replied, in perfect deadpan. “Like when I’m waiting for coffee.”

“Hm,” Genji said thoughtfully. “That makes sense then.” She had the creeping feeling that he wasn’t thinking about waiting for coffee in her office. The coffee maker chortled away in the background while Angela cast around for something to talk about.

“Did you have a good time last night?” Angela asked innocently, trying to figure out if she had done something monumentally stupid the night before. “I know we all went a little over the top.”

“Oh, no. Not me,” he replied happily and leaned against her desk, arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t have a drop.” He poured out a cup of coffee and fixed it with just the amount of cream and sugar that Angela liked. Apparently he had been paying attention all of those mornings while laying in bed after his surgeries. She thanked him when he handed the mug over. “I haven’t had a drop since,” he gestured at his body, summing it all up. “I’m worried about how things would respond.”

The sweet and aromatic taste of coffee momentarily distracted her from what he said. She took a second quick sip before saying, “Genji, you can drink alcohol. All of your organs are still perfectly--” she cut herself when she saw him grimace and look away. “I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not what you want to talk about his early in the morning.”

“Oh, no. Talking about how _all_ of my organs are functional is exactly how I like to start my mornings.”

She felt a blush rise in her cheeks. What was with her this morning? Was it because she hadn’t seen him in a few days? Before she could figure it out Genji spoke again.

“Well I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright this morning, Angela. And now that you’ve had your coffee I feel like I can rest assured.” He straightened and gave her a little mock salute. “I’ll see you later.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said, stilted.

Before he disappeared out the door and into the hallway, he called over his shoulder. “I like the way you dance, Angela.”

The door shut behind him before she could respond.

She stared at the stark white door, mind playing his parting remark on a loop, trying to process what he had said. Finally, the synapses fired and she had to set her coffee down.

“Athena!”

“Yes, Dr. Ziegler?” The A.I. replied.

“Connect me to Agent Mei please.”

There was a soft beep to let her know that Athena was trying to hail Mei. Angela waited impatiently, head still pounding and heart fluttering anxiously.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ziegler. Agent Mei isn’t answering.”

Angela groaned. “Athena, what time is it?”

“It is just past six in the morning.”

“That would explain why Mei isn’t answering.”

“Indeed, Dr. Ziegler.”

Angela groaned again and picked her coffee mug up again, taking another sip and enjoying the warmth that spread through her as a result. It helped to calm her down and start thinking more clearly. Genji seemed cheerful enough. Surely whatever she had done couldn’t have been so terrible.

Her phone chirped from where she had left it plugged in on her desk the night before and she looked to see the message she had from Lena.

\--Oooooh! I think I had too much to drink last night! How’re you feeling, love?--

Angela texted back that yes, she thought that she had had too much to drink too but was feeling better after drinking a cup of coffee.

\--Have you heard anything from Genji yet???--

She frowned at her phone. --No. Why?--

Lena sent back three shocked emojis along with --You don’t remember????--

_Scheiße._ \--...No?--

And then Lena didn’t send anything back. Angela made a distressed sound in the back of her throat when the messages stopped. --Lena??-- She texted back, desperate for a response. What she wasn’t prepared for was the flash of blue light to come speeding into her office, causing her bathrobe to briefly flutter a little too high around her knees for her taste.

“Good morning!” Lena said, a little breathlessly. “Do you have any more coffee?”

Trying to recover from the shock of the other woman’s sudden appearance, Angela pointed mutely to the coffee pot.

“Fantastic,” said Lena as she took a spare mug from the counter and filled it with more cream and sugar than coffee. “We have some serious talking to do.”

“Okay?” Angela sat in the chair behind her desk and tucked her legs in under her, rearranging her robe to be more comfortable.

“You’ve totally got the hots for Genji, I can’t believe it!” Lena said, going straight to the point.

Angela could only stare at her over the top of her coffee mug. “I beg your pardon.”

“You weren’t even trying to be subtle about it either! You were _all over_ him trying to get him to dance last night.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who noticed. Besides Genji I mean. Everyone else was just completely smashed and busy trying to one up each other. But you, you were trying to make him dance with you and make sure that he was having fun. It was kind of sweet.”

She felt the flush rise up her cheeks, hot enough to keep her coffee warm if she stuck her face in it. Which she was honestly considering doing. It would save her more embarrassment. “He made me coffee this morning,” she confided, taking another sip instead of trying to drown herself in it. Lena pointed at the coffee in her own mug and then back at the machine, eyes wide. Angela nodded, answering the unspoken question. “Yes, this coffee.”

“Oh my gosh,” Lena said very quickly and in all one word. “You totally smashed last night, didn’t you?”

“What? No!” Angela practically yelled and then quickly looked around to make sure no one heard them which was absurd because they were completely alone in the medbay and the rest of the watchpoint probably wouldn’t be awake for several more hours.

“Well that’s a shame.”

Angela snorted before she could help herself.

“I thought for sure with the way you were rubbing yourself all over him you were bound to hop in bed as soon as the party ended. Or maybe even before.”  

Angela stared at her at that, not quite sure how to process it. The only thing that she was certain of was that she was never, ever drinking with Lena again. And she told her so.

Lena only laughed. “I guess the good thing about this is you can both just blame it on the booze and move on. Just pretend nothing ever happened.”

“But Genji didn’t drink anything.”

Lena’s eyebrows shot up her brow. “Now that makes things more interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! The good news is that I finally know what direction I want this fic to go in! This chapter is the last bit of kind of random stuff before actual plot starts happening. I know there wasn't a lot of actual Angela/Genji interaction in this chapter but I hope you liked the last two scenes!
> 
> Please let me know if there are any really horrific typos or something like that and leave kudos and comments if you liked it!


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few days Angela avoided everyone at the watchpoint by staying barricaded in her office, trying to recall what she’d done at the party while also making adjustments to her caduceus staff. She had a theory that if she could just finagle a few things just so she could increase its range which would only boost her effectiveness in the field. The idea of  _ boosting  _ stuck around, a diaphanous thought that she pondered over and over. 

She used her work as an excuse, a shield between herself and whatever social tangle she may or may not have gotten herself into.

Every time she thought about the welcome party she could feel the blush rise high up in her cheeks and she had to resist the urge to hide her head in her hands. She was certain that it hadn’t been anything  _ terrible  _ or Genji never would have stopped in to check on her. Or maybe it  _ was  _ something terrible and that was why he had dropped by. But surely Lena would have  _ told  _ her if it was something really worth worrying about. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Genji had said he liked the way she danced. With her thoughts churning in a never ending circle, Angela continued to fiddle with her staff. When that became too tedious she retreated to Practice Range 2. 

Shooting had never been high on her list of skills compared to the rest of Overwatch. She was certainly no Jesse McCree with a six shooter who sometimes took out more than six people in the space between heartbeats nor was she Ana Amari who could take out a target from some mind boggling distance. No, she abhorred violence, but Angela still knew her way around a gun and could still hit a moving target on the other side of the gun range when she put her mind to it. Back during the Crisis she’d been on more battlefields than she cared to count, dashing behind cover to get to the wounded and dying. When an omnic appeared, with the God Program screaming through its circuitry to  _ kill, kill, kill _ there wasn’t much room for negotiation.

Sometimes she woke up to the smell of blood and dust in her nose and the sound of rapid fire pulse weapons ringing in her head. Sometimes she woke up screaming. Sometimes she woke up with those words, “ _ I hope this haunts you for the rest of your goddamned life,” _ swirling around her head on a sickening loop. 

Those nights she slept better after running enough laps around the watchpoint that the steady drum of her shoes against the concrete and her own heavy breathing drowned out the memories. 

When her communicator sang out the jaunty little tune that meant Jack was looking for her, Angela was on her third runthrough of a training simulation in Range 2. 

All Jack said when she answered was, “Mission briefing, twenty minutes.” 

“Can we make it thirty, Jack? I could really use a change of clothes.” She sniffed at herself and wrinkled her nose. “And a shower.”

“Sure, Angela. It’s not like I’m Strike Commander and me personally calling you in for a meeting means it isn’t important at all.” The heavy sarcasm in his voice made Angela laugh. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, Jack.”

***

When Angela walked through the door to the mission briefing room she almost turned right back around again. She had to remind herself that she was an adult and the Head of Medical Research at Overwatch to boot and it was immature to avoid problems by turning around and walking away. Especially when her problem smiled at her like that. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she realized that the only people in the room where herself and Genji. 

“Hello, Angela,” he said, from his seat at the table. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt with the Overwatch logo emblazoned on the breast and there was a water bottle sitting on the glass tabletop in front of him. His hair was damp as if he had just stepped out of a shower and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked terrible. 

“Genji,” Angela stuttered out, surprise taking her words from her. “You look awful. Are you alright?”

He grimaced and glanced away. 

_ Scheiße.  _ “Genji--”

The door opened and Jack entered the room, followed by someone who made Angela’s blood boil. 

Mr. Artificial Hair was back. And every strand of hair was still perfectly in place. 

“Doctor Ziegler, please take your seat so we can get started,” he said in that same snide voice. 

With one last glance at Genji who still refused to meet her eyes, Angela glared at Artificial Hair and sat in the chair to Genji’s right. She peaked at him from behind her bangs but he had shifted his gaze to the large view screen that took up a whole wall of the briefing room. 

Artificial Hair typed in a few things at the terminal in silence before a photograph of an older, dark skinned man appeared at the center of the screen. He looked like he had been handsome in his youth. The broad smile across his face made Angela like him instantly. 

“This,” Artificial Hair said without preamble. “Is Lucien Thibideaux. Made all of his millions in construction when he helped build that new levee system that kept New Orleans from flooding out completely. He’s graciously invited Overwatch to attend a gala in the city in honor of his seventy-fifth birthday.”

“And we’re going?” Angela said, putting two and two together in surprise. Typically when Overwatch received these sorts of invitations, they sent low level agents and interns as representatives for the organization. “I have work to do,” she protested. Of course right now that work mostly centered around avoiding the man who was currently sitting right next to her, but they didn’t need to know that. There was also the idea forming at the back of her mind for somehow  _ boosting  _ the other agents in the field. Neither of these would come to fruition by flying halfway across the world with the one person she was really avoiding. 

Artificial Hair regarded her coolly before responding. “Mr. Thibideaux has donated a large sum of money to Overwatch on the condition that our esteemed Head of Medical Research attend the event and agree to a private consultation.” 

“So some old man gives us a ‘large sum of money’ and suddenly I’m expected to perform like a dancing monkey?” Indignation rose from deep within her, hot and acidic.“I have important work to do here. I can’t just up and leave because someone in America just paid your salary for the next year.”

“May I remind again Dr. Ziegler that you work for  _ us _ . And,” Artificial Hair narrowed his eyes at her, “he just paid  _ your  _ salary for the next five years.” 

Angela glared back at him and did her best to mask her surprise as she tried to figure out just how much money Lucien Thibideaux had donated just to get a consultation with her. The amount must be truly staggering. The thought made her head spin. That kind of money could really open some doors with her own research with upgrading her staff, not to mention, she thought as a dark afterthought, the kinds of things that Moira could probably get up to with that much money. 

“Isn’t that suspicious, though?” Genji asked, speaking for the first time. “That someone would just give us all of that money for a chance to speak with Dr. Ziegler?” his arm whirred softly as he picked up the water bottle.

It had been so long since he had called her Dr. Ziegler that Angela turned to look at him. His eyes dared over to her before flicking away again, so fast she thought she imagined it. She watched the fine lines of his throat move as he took a sip of water. Mouth suddenly dry she looked away before her face started to heat up. 

“That’s where you roll comes into play, Agent Shimada.” Jack broke his silence and  crossed his arms over his chest, looming large just over Artificial Hair’s shoulder. He only ever used titles during mission briefings, something that Angela used to find amusing but now it just annoyed her. His tacit acceptance of Artificial Hair’s authority over them pissed her off too. “You will act as Dr. Ziegler’s security for the duration of her trip to New Orleans. While he has given us the money already, we can’t fully rule out that this might be a trap to rob us of our best surgeon.” 

“Don’t let Dr. O’Deorain hear you say that,” Angela muttered and sat back in her chair, hiding behind her bangs again. She was still upset about the situation, but she wasn’t as mad at Jack anymore after his compliment. Now she was just irritated. 

“The gala is on Saturday,” Artificial Hair continued. “You will leave Thursday with one of our jets so you can deal with jetlag and such before the party.” The unspoken  _ don’t embarrass us  _ did not go unheard. “Take the next few days to acquire appropriate attire and read up on Thibideaux. We’ll give you a more detailed packet to read on your flight over to Louisiana and instructions on where to go once you land.” 

“Thanks for coming in,” Jack said. “You’re dismissed.” 

Angela stood quickly and left the room before anyone could stop her. She heard the soft whirring of fans that told her Genji had followed. 

“Angela,” he said just as softly. “Please, wait.” 

It was the please that made her stop. Genji so rarely said ‘please’ that she couldn’t ignore him. Usually he was all angry and fire or cracking self deprecating jokes. The simple ‘please’ was something new. 

She waited for him to catch up but didn’t look at him when he stood in front of her. She could already feel her cheeks turning red.

“Are you still embarrassed about the party?” He asked quietly. The hallway was empty behind him and Angela found herself wishing that someone would come along so she didn’t have to have this conversation. When no one came to her salvation she stared at the floor and gave one sharp nod. 

He chuckled softly and said, “You don’t have to be. We can pretend like nothing happened, okay? I’ll wipe it from the computer chip that holds all of my new cyborg memories.” She looked up at him then to glare at his bad joke. He laughed again, louder this time. “Okay so I don’t have a memory chip but we can still pretend like nothing happened. So please stop ignoring me.” She winced. “You’re not very subtle. Besides, I think Jesse is tired of sharing a room with me so I want my old one back.”

“What?” 

He shrugged. “You seemed really uncomfortable after I brought you coffee so I figured I would just sort of stay out of your way. I’ve been bunking with Jesse for the past few days.” 

Angela opened her mouth but no words came out. She just stood there, gaping like a fish. When she could finally string some words together she said, “You know you could’ve asked for your own room! Like get assigned your own quarters and everything.” 

“I know. But then I wouldn’t get to see you every day,” he said simply. 

She didn’t know how to respond to that so she very eloquently said, “Oh,” and stared at him. 

He shrugged again and threw his water bottle in the air, catching it deftly. “I’ll see you on Thursday, Angela.” He walked down the hall while Angela stared after him, still trying to process what he had said.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta da! Actual plot! My family is from New Orleans and I love the city so much so I'm excited to bring y'all there over the course of this fic! If you liked the chapter as always please leave comments and kudos! Thank you so much for reading! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to see some Angela backstory in this chapter! I've really decided to take these characters and run with them since Blizzard is so stingy with lore. 
> 
> Just a head's up: this chapter contains mentions of a dead child and gore.

The thought of going back to the US made her anxious. Her hands were sweaty as she packed her bags and double checked that her evening gown hung straight on its hanger in the garment bag. She hadn’t been back to the States since the Crisis when everything in her life had gone to shit in five minutes. 

_ When Max-- _

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. No. She wouldn’t think about that, not today. Not when she needed to focus on the mission, straightforward enough as it was. 

Step One, land in New Orleans. Step Two, find the hotel. Step Three, find something to do before the party on Saturday. Step Four, attend the gala. Step Five, talk to Thibideaux. Step Six, come home on Sunday. 

Simple. 

And maybe somewhere in there she would talk to Genji about what he meant by wanting to see her every day. 

That thought added an extra swirl of anxiety in her stomach and Angela took a deep breath to center herself. Everything would be fine. 

“Agent Shimada has prepped your jet for take off, Dr. Ziegler,” Athena informed her. 

“Thank you, Athena.” Angela double checked her emergency supplies this time, making sure that everything was organized and she had a little tool kit to help Genji with maintenance even though by this time he was adept at doing it himself. Being prepared for anything had been drilled into her from the start of her medical career. Just because this was a mission to a fancy party didn’t mean that it wouldn’t devolve into some sort of insane shootout. She collected her bags and headed out to the hanger bay. They were going to take one of Overwatch’s private jets, built for comfort and more diplomatic missions than their armed aircraft. 

Jack stood in front of the jet’s access ramp, mercifully without Artificial Hair. 

“I’m sorry about Nuñez,” he said by way of greeting. 

“Nuñez?” 

Jack frowned. “The representative from the UN. The one you spent the whole briefing glaring at. Armando Nuñez.”

Angela scowled. “So that’s what his name is.” 

That surprised a laugh out of Jack. “This whole time you didn’t even know the man’s name?”

“I don’t like him,” she said as explanation. Really that was a bit of an understatement, not that she would tell Jack that. 

“Ange,” he warned. 

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped back. “You know I don’t like nicknames.” Her nerves were already on edge and she didn’t want to argue with Jack, not really but he had tried for years to call her Ange or Angie and each time she told him not to. He was a grown man and should understand ‘no.’ 

He winced guiltily and apologized.“But you need to be careful with the UN reps, Angela. They hold a lot of sway over what we do now.” He handed her the tablet he’d been holding and promptly changed the subject. “This has the latest intel about Thibideaux and what to do once you land in New Orleans. Turns out he’s putting you up in a bed and breakfast in the Garden District not too far from his place. Looks nice.”

Angela took the tablet and absently flicked through the pictures. Nice was  _ definitely  _ an understatement. If everything went according to plan and they only attended the gala this weekend, then this would be the first vacation she’d had since before the Crisis. And it would be one in the lap of luxury in American Southern hospitality. The thought soothed her nerves more than any deep breaths could and she found herself looking forward to the trip more. 

“Make sure you report in once you’ve got wheels on the ground and you’re on your way to your accommodations.”

“We will, Jack,” Angela promised. She readjusted the strap of her bag more securely over her shoulder. 

He reached out and touched her elbow briefly before making way for her up the loading ramp. She nodded at him and padded up the ramp. The door shut behind her. 

“Genji?” She called into the jet, securing her bags in one of the compartments in the main cabin. 

“I’m here,” she heard him say from the cockpit. “I’ll take us out.” 

The floor underneath her hummed as he turned on the engines and guided them out onto the tarmac. Angela joined him in the cockpit and strapped into the copilot chair. She would sit with him for takeoff just in case he actually needed a copilot, but after that they could set the jet to cruise control and wonder the small space freely for the flight over the Atlantic. 

Genji was in the same sweatshirt and sweatpants from the other day but he didn’t look as tired. He cast a small smile her way before turning back to the controls. 

Take off went smoothly and soon enough they were cruising at 28,000 feet with nothing to do for the next several hours but review the information on Thibideaux and twiddle their thumbs. 

She was doing it. She was really going back to America. 

“Angela? Are you alright?”

She kept facing ahead at the expanse of blue sky spread out before them like an endless ocean. “What?”

“You made a weird noise.”

“I did?” She asked. 

“Is it because you’re going to be stuck with me for a whole weekend?” Genji sounded disappointed and Angela finally turned to face him.

“What? No. It’s just…” she trailed off, not sure if she could tell him the reason why she had been a mess the past couple of days. 

“Just what?” he prompted gently. “You can talk to me, Angela.” 

She sighed heavily. She thought of everything that she had been privy to about his life and how she had seen him at his most vulnerable, physically and mentally torn to pieces by a trauma worse than her own. And yet here he was sitting in front of her and offering kindness. How could she not tell him? “The last time I was in America,” she said stiffly, it felt like the words stuck in the back of her throat and didn’t want to be spoken. “The last time I was in America,” she repeated. “I lost someone very dear to me.” 

It was a cheap summary and she knew it. ‘Very dear’ did not come close to describing her relationship with Max at the time but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. She felt dirty, dishonoring his memory by summing everything up in one sentence, ‘ _ The last time I was in America I lost someone very dear to me _ .’ They had been young and stupid together. 

Genji’s brown eyes were sad and sympathetic when he said, “I’m sorry. Was it during the Crisis?” 

“Everything was during the fucking Crisis,” she snapped bitterly. She was angry at herself for still feeling this way whenever she thought about the events that unfolded in Phoenix. 

To his credit Genji barely batted an eye at her swearing which she did so rarely. “I know you were a field medic,” he said, obviously trying to press for more information. 

“Yes, I was.” Angela unbuckled her seatbelts and stood abruptly. She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not by a long shot. She knew that pushing everything down into the dark hole inside her was a terrible way to cope with trauma. She  _ knew  _ that it would be detrimental in the long run and wasn’t her anxiety about going back to the same  _ country,  _ not even the same  _ region  _ proof enough of that? But still, she didn’t want to discuss this here, in the cockpit of an Overwatch jet on the way to a fancy gala celebrating life. 

Speaking of the dead could wait until later. Much later. 

“I’m going to go lie down for a while,” she told Genji and without another word she fled the cockpit. 

The rest of the jet was a simple set up with a few rows of comfy leather seats that could recline far back enough to be nearly horizontal. She fished a blanket out of one of the compartments near the tiny bathroom and made herself comfortable in one the seats. Sleep was the last thing on her mind but eventually the soft rumble of the engines and the smooth fabric of the blanket lured her into a light doze that morphed into sleep. 

 

***

_ “Angie will you stop staring at me like that? You’re making me nervous.”  _

_ Angela laughed. “I can’t help but stare at you!” She leaned over and gave Max a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He laughed and dropped the pair of binoculars he’d been holding which made her giggle again. He picked them up again with the cybernetic arm that she had helped to design and interface with his nervous system. The sight of it always brought on a surge of pride that she found difficult to ignore. _

_ “Will the two of you cut it out please?” Sergeant Ng groaned, looking through his own pair of binoculars. “I’m trying to focus here and you two are being really distracting.”  _

_ They were in a field tent on the outskirts of downtown Phoenix as part of the most recent push back against the omnics. There were bombed out craters in parts of the city and some fires still burned making the air thick with smoke, blocking out much of the oppressive desert sun. For now though, things were mostly quiet. Their tent was pitched dangerously close to the unofficial border between human and omnic controlled territory, but Max swore up and down that they would be fine and Angela believed him. There was no way that he could be wrong because Max was never wrong.  _

_ Angela was taking a break from her rotation in the triage tent where she had spent most of the day fighting to save as many lives as possible. At the end of her shift she was covered in blood up to her elbows and had seen more dead bodies than living ones. She should have been sleeping but Ng had asked for her opinion on something so here she was.  _

_ “There, over there!” Ng said, pointing to a bombed out apartment building about a block into the omnic zone.  _

_ “I don’t see anything,” Max said. He leaned forward slightly and nudged Angela out of the way. “Wait.”  _

_ “Doesn’t that look like a kid to you?” Ng asked. He passed Angela his binoculars.  _

_ It took her a moment to adjust them properly and then another to try and figure out if what she was looking at was just another pile of rubble or something more gruesome. It was difficult to tell at this distance, but she thought she saw something shift.  _

_ “I think,” she said carefully. “It could be worth looking into.”  _

_ Max scoffed. “I am not risking my ass over something that may or may not be a kid. And if it is a kid, there’s no way it’s alive. It’s been two days since the last attack.”  _

_ “If it’s a child we have to help them, Max,” Angela pleaded. She knew that he would cave and do this for her. He always did. It was one of the things that made her love him so much.   _

_ The dream shifts and suddenly the explosion goes off right at their feet, rubble and shrapnel spraying out around them. By some miracle it misses Angela. But it doesn’t miss Max.  _

_ They are in bombed out apartment building, the child already dead and used as a lure for someone to approach. The onmics were using human compassion against them.  _

  
  


_ Max screaming and trying to put the slick ropes of his intestines back where they belonged. _

 

 

_ More explosions, more smoke, more screaming. _

 

 

_ “ANGELA WE HAVE TO GO NOW!” _

 

 

_ “We can’t leave him!”  _

 

 

_ And finally, “I hope this haunts you for the rest of your goddamned life.” _

 

 

 

Angela sat up fast enough to give herself whiplash but that didn’t matter because it felt like her lungs weren’t working. No matter how much she gasped she couldn’t seem to bring enough air into her lungs. Dimly she could hear someone saying her name but it felt like she was underwater. 

“Angela, Angela!”

Genji. It was Genji trying to get her attention, to calm her down. She grabbed onto his arm but flinched back when it was the cybernetic one.

Cybernetic. Like Max’s arm. 

Her first full breath in felt like being reborn and left her coughing and trying to catch her breath. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she struggled to breathe. 

“Angela, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” 

It felt like years passed but slowly, so her heart rate reached a bearable rhythm and her breathing leveled out. 

“Angela,” Genji said softly. His hands hovered close to her like he wanted to hold her but was afraid to touch her. 

“I’m fine, I’m--” She cut herself off and squeezed her eyes shut. She definitely wasn’t fine and there was no point in claiming otherwise. “It was just a bad dream.” 

“You can tell me about it, if it will help.”

“Like you tell me about yours?” 

She felt him stand up and move away but she refused to open her eyes. It was silent in the jet aside from the rumbling engines and the soft sound of Genji walking away. 

“We’ll be landing soon,” he said tightly. 

America. Time to face her past. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long! Life took several uh...let's call them dramatic turns since I posted the last update. That coupled with some writers block really set me back. But I'm back in the swing of writing things again so it's all up from here!

The first thing she noticed about Louisiana was how different it was from Phoenix. The moment she walked out onto the tarmac at the Louis Armstrong Airport she felt for sure that Genji had made a mistake and flown them to South America instead of the United States of America. The humidity was a cloying thing, with not a whisper of wind to keep it from ensnaring her. 

If only Thibideaux had decided to throw his party in December or January instead of mid July. 

The contrast between the desert heat and the stifling humidity actually caused her to relax a bit. It felt like breathing through a sponge but it also had a soothing effect on her nerves. She could do this. 

There was a sleek, black car waiting to take them down to the Garden District and after helping the driver stow her things in the trunk Angela slid gratefully into its cool backseat. A moment later and Genji followed her in. She was still jittery from her dream and avoided eye contact. The driver remained silent too and soon they were on their way to their destination. Angela studied the city through the window as they wove their way through traffic and over the incredibly bumping streets. When they drew level with the Mississippi River she got a good look at the incredible feat of engineering that had helped Lucien Thibideaux earn his fortune. The massive levee system that held the mighty Mississippi back had saved New Orleans from catastrophic flooding more than once. She knew from Thibideaux’s file that a similar structure stood on the lake shore, keeping Lake Pontchartrain in check as well. 

Soon they were making their way down shady streets and the houses became bigger and older, the lawns more expansive, and the fences taller. The roads also got worse, something that made Genji break his silence and grumble a bit. The driver laughed at him and said, 

“I know! It doesn’t make any sense but that’s how the city works. The nicer the houses, the shittier the roads. Y’all are staying on St. Charles Avenue, the prettiest and also sometimes the shittiest street in town.”  

Angela stared out the window as they passed by each beautiful building, built in various architectural styles. Eventually, their driver slowed and signaled before pulling up the drive of one of the largest houses they had passed so far.

The house was gorgeous. It was more of a mansion than a house, and like most of the properties in this part of the city the garden was extensive with ancient oak trees providing shade and flowers of every color, meticulously cared for and spilling out of flower beds. When they pulled into the driveway, Angela understood why this part of the city was called the Garden District. An expansive porch wrapped its way around the front of the house with several rocking chairs strategically placed to enjoy the garden. 

A streetcar rumbled by behind them and Angela was hit with the pang of nostalgia that New Orleans was famous for. Even now, in the aftermath of the Crisis and when there was better technology, the city still stubbornly used their ancient streetcars. 

The owner came out to greet them, an old woman named Josephine. She gave them the rules of the house: breakfast served at eight, lunch and dinner weren’t included, no smoking in the house, no pets, and, with the last rule Josephine’s eyes cut over to Genji and then back to Angela, no omnics. Angela bristled at her words and she could feel Genji tense up behind her.

“Not to worry, Ms. Josephine,” Angela said in her most I-am-a-medical-professional-and-know-more-than-you voice, “after all, there aren’t any omnics here.” 

Josephine sniffed. “Indeed.” She showed them their suite of rooms on the second floor and handed over their keys. They each got their own bedroom, with enormous canopy beds and private bathrooms. There was a large living room and a short hallway separating the two bedrooms. The window in Angela’s room overlooked the front garden. 

When Genji stalked by her once they got the key to their rooms, Angela knew that she needed to say something to him. Her sudden reversal of good cheer had clearly left him annoyed. But she couldn’t help herself; the old oak trees that lined the street filled her with a sense of peace and she could feel the laid back pace of the city soothe her soul. Maybe it was the novelty of a city that still had so many old buildings and trees standing even after the Crisis, but Angela had fallen in love with it after only being there for a few hours. 

She winced when a door slammed. Someone else was clearly not enjoying himself as much. It probably had to do with Josephine’s pointed comment about no omnics in the house. 

But Genji wasn’t an omnic. He was human. Yes, these days he had more mechanical parts than organic, but he had a beating heart and was flesh and blood. She’d had that blood coating her hands and stitched him back together and--

Okay, that was a dangerous line of thinking. She took a few minutes to calm down and unpacked her bags, carefully hanging her ball gown in the closet and depositing her toiletries in her bathroom. They needed to get out the house and explore. She’d never been to the this part of the world and something told her that neither had Genji. A little fresh air, even if it was stifling and mostly water with the amount of humidity in the air, would do them both some good. 

Angela changed into a more breathable cotton skirt and a flowing blouse before perching a wide brimmed sun hat on her head. She knocked purposefully on the door to Genji’s room. 

“Genji! I want to go sightseeing!” 

There was no response so she knocked again. “Genji, you have to come with me. You’re supposed to be my security detail and what if I get kidnapped or something.” 

She heard a muffled voice say something that sounded like, “...Kick ass...yourself…”

“Did you just say I can kick my own ass?” she teased. “I’ve never done that before but there’s a first time for everything.” 

The door opened and Genji scowled at her. “I said you could probably kick ass by yourself.” He blinked when he took in her outfit. “Or maybe not if you’re going to wear that skirt.”

Angela defended herself. “I am on vacation! I can wear a short skirt if I want!” she twirled in a small circle and it flowed out wonderfully, just above her knees. 

He laughed and shook his head. “You might be on vacation but I only brought my sweats and my tuxedo.”

She looked at him standing in front of her, abdominal piece still in place but with the vast majority of his chest plate removed and realized that this was Genji standing  practically naked in front of her. The realization had her pulse quickening and heat thrum through her body. She could see each of the surgical scars that marked where his organic body ended and the cybernetic began, fingers itching to touch them again. The weight of his gaze was a palpable thing as her eyes flickered over his torso and up the delicate skin of his neck to the scarred jawline. 

“Oh,” she said eloquently. Suddenly her idea of apologizing to him by dragging him out sightseeing seemed like less of a good idea. She started wondering when the last time he had been out in public, not on a mission, was and if he was ready for the world to see his new body and all she could think about was the exposed skin on his clavicle and she could just reach out and touch it if she really wanted to and-- 

“Angela,” Genji’s voice derailed her thoughts. “I can see you overthinking. Relax,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll throw something on and we can go out.”

Relief spread through her at the notion that he thought she was only worried about his emotional state and not the vista of exposed skin on display in front of her. “But if you aren’t ready to…” she trailed off and wished there was a way she could sum up everything that had just flown through her head. With maybe the exception of her fingers itching to touch. 

“If I’m going to reenter ‘the real world,’” he used air quotes, the delicate motors in one hand working seamlessly in tandem with the other. “It might as well be with you.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. I’ll just,” she waved her hand somewhere behind her. “Wait on the couch I guess.” 

He nodded at her and closed the door, leaving her in the hallway wondering just what her reaction had been about. She remembered her initial observation of Genji, that he had been handsome before his brother had tried to kill him. She had seen his body before, but not under the casual intimacy of his partial state of undress. No, she had seen him  _ vulnerable _ . In a medical context when there was no time to study the hard angles and the careful slope of his shoulders and--

Angela shook herself and a feeling very close to shame made her skin feel hot and tight. She was his doctor. She had no right to think about Genji like this. It was highly inappropriate and anything that became of it would be unethical. Except she couldn’t stop thinking about it now. 

And they were going to spend an entire weekend alone. Even better. 

***

After a rather harrowing trip where Angela insisted that they figure out how to use the ancient street cars and wandering around the downtown area for nearly an hour, they finally found themselves in the French Quarter. She pulled Genji into the first touristy shop she saw and promptly bought him some new clothes. Ten minutes later Genji was grumbling about looking ridiculous in a cheap Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts but Angela just laughed at him and said he looked like the perfect tourist. 

“This is the worst thing I’ve ever worn,” he said. His expression was disapproving but Angela thought she could see the corners of his mouth twitching like they were fighting back a smile. “And that includes a hospital gown.” 

“Well if you want to walk around outside with your behind hanging out then be my guest,” Angela said without thinking. She hid her embarrassment by pretending to look at the t-shirts with ‘New Orleans, French Quarter’ emblazoned on them in different colors in a shop window. Had she really just said that outloud? Not that she would really mind Genji walking around with his... _ behind  _ all hanging out. Behind. It wasn’t often that she was embarrassed by her English skills but she would definitely mark this down as a time to cringe at. 

What she didn’t expect was for Genji to say back, “If that’s what you really want, I could be convinced,” in a husky voice, one eyebrow quirked up and flirtatious grin stretching over his slightly scarred lips. 

Before she could respond someone cleared their throat loudly and said, “Excuse me, there are children here. We don’t need you disgusting relationship poisoning their minds.” A middle aged woman tugged on her child’s hand, face flushed with disgust, and stormed away, muttering, “Omnics and people out in public. I’m going to vomit.” 

Angela stared after the woman, shocked. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew that some people found omnics disconcerting at best and repulsive abominations at worst, but Genji wasn’t an omnic. He was human. She looked over at him, mouth open to say something, only he wasn’t there. The spot where he had just been standing was empty of the man who, until a few seconds ago was confidently flirting and making her belly tighten. 

For a moment she panicked, thinking that Genji really had just up and run off, leaving her stranded in the middle the French Quarter by herself and she would have to go to the gala by herself and suddenly going to a fancy party seemed like a much more difficult thing to do if she wouldn’t have Genji there to make snide little comments about the way people dressed and she didn’t know how to fly the jet back so maybe she really was going to just live in Louisiana for the rest of her life, wouldn’t that just be so nice. 

_ Relax, Angela _ , she told herself. Genji wouldn’t just abandon her.. 

She stumbled down the street and past a few more shop fronts that catered to the thousands of tourists who visited the city. A glance down the first side alley she came to proved that the gate was open and she could hear the distant sound of water playing in a fountain. Angela hesitated briefly, knowing that turning down a little alley in any big city was a stupid decision for a woman alone, but something told her that Genji was down there. 

She found him sitting on a stone bench across from a three tiered fountain in a quiet courtyard. A sigh of relief whooshed out of her lungs and she took a moment to take in the scene before her. A single enormous oak tree shaded the majority of the space and several large potted plants were placed haphazardly around. He looked ridiculous and out of place with his brightly colored shirt and khaki pants, but that wasn’t what caused Angela to stop. Genji had both of his hands covering his face and his shoulders were shaking. 

“Genji,” she said carefully. He didn’t respond and she moved closer. She had no idea what to say to him. Instead she knelt down in front of him and tried to pry one of his hands loose. “Look at me.” He didn’t resist when she pulled at his left away but recoiled away when she touched his right, like he couldn’t stand to touch her with the cybernetic hand. His eyes were red rimmed and her heart clenched at the sight. 

“I’m sorry I left you,” he mumbled. He wouldn’t meet her eye. “It will not happen again.” She watched as a careful mask slid back over his face, the one tinged with amusement at the edges. A few seconds later and he stood up, pulling her with him. “I want some crazy old lady to read my future in tarot cards.” His left hand gripped hers and started pulling her out of the little courtyard. 

“Genji, wait. We should talk about this.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Angela,” he responded. He was cheerful enough that if she hadn’t just seen him crying she would never have suspected a thing. That was a thought that sent chills down her spine. If Genji was using his cheerfulness to cover up his pain…

But she liked the way his hand felt in hers. He even held onto it when they were back out on the main street. A man walked past them and Genji made a comment on his clashing fabric patterns that had Angela laughing again and it was almost as if nothing had happened. She still tucked the incident away in the back of her mind though, to think through later in case something similar happened again and Genji had a different sort of reaction. 


	11. Chapter 11

Saturday morning dawned just as bright and humid as the rest of their time in New Orleans. Neither Angela nor Genji were very talkative. Angela had been ripped from pleasant dreams of the ocean to the guttural screaming coming from the room across the hall. After throwing on her dressing gown she’d burst into Genji’s room to wake him from the nightmare. They had clung to each other in the darkness until birds had started chirping at the window and Angela had slipped back out of the room without saying a word. 

They spent the morning lounging around their living room. Angela made them both tea and they drank it in silence with a few mumbled comments but mostly they just sat in silent solidarity on the comfortable couch. Both of them agreed that it was too hot to venture outside again and Angela suspected that Genji wanted to avoid another run in with the public, especially when they would be at a crowded party this evening. 

The pair danced around what had happened in the French Quarter. Genji looked away, embarrassed when she tried to bring it up, but he didn’t pull away when she reached out to squeeze his hand. The flesh one of course, never the cybernetic. 

Something had shifted between them. Their relationship with one another had morphed into something that Angela didn’t have a name for. Something more than just friends or colleagues but not quite anything more. It was a tenuous thing and Angela was worried that she could just be projecting her feelings onto Genji. She realized as she washed the dishes from breakfast that she did have feelings for him, and they were more than just the worry a doctor carries for one of their patients or a friend has for another friend. A doctor wouldn’t want to climb a patient like a tree and a friend certainly wouldn’t want to bang another friend like a screen door in a hurricane. 

So yes, Angela was attracted to Genji. The only question was whether or not that attraction was mutual. And Angela wasn’t brave enough to find out. True, he flirted with her but Genji flirted with everyone around the Watchpoint so she tried not to read too much into it. 

Josephine stopped by to let them know that a car would be by to pick them up that evening around seven and bring them to Thibideaux’s mansion. She also sniffed and asked them if they could keep the noise down during the night, thank you very much. With eyes narrowed at Genji sitting on the couch behind Angela, the old woman snapped the door shut. 

“Such a pleasant woman,” Angela mumbled before joining Genji back on the couch. “Have you ever been to something like this before?” she asked. 

Genji looked up from where he had been studiously peeling an orange and ignoring their visitor. He raised an eyebrow. “The Shimadas had more money than God, Angela. I went to my first big event when I was barely up to my mother’s knee.” 

“Oh,” she said in response. 

“This should be a piece of cake compared to those. After all, no one’s trying to kill us here.” 

***

The dress was more low cut than she remembered it being, making her feel daring and sexy for once instead of her usual cautious self. It would also be wonderful for ventilation with the heat and humidity; just because the sun went down did not mean that the temperature changed all that much. The dark blue of the gown perfectly complimented the shade of her eyes and with some careful maneuvering, Angela managed to create an acceptable hair style with all of it pinned up and off of her neck which would again, be wonderful for ventilation and keeping her cool. A floor length gown seemed like a bad idea in this sort of weather but here she was, preparing to become perfectly sweaty the moment she set foot outside of the house, to go and mingle with other people who would likely be just as hot and uncomfortable as she was. Apparently southerners in the US were just accustomed to it. 

They still didn’t know why Thibideaux had asked for her specifically, so before they got off of the couch to get ready, they had both gone over their security protocols in detail. Each of them had their usual Overwatch earpiece and commlink to stay in touch in case they got separated. Angela would mingle and talk with the other guests before seeking out Thibideaux while Genji followed behind. Jack had instructed them to reach out to any other potential donors they came across during the night which was something that Genji flat out refused to do. 

“I don’t want to talk to people,” he had said stiffly and Angela had let the subject drop. The other guests at the party would probably be just as wealthy as Thibideaux, but the main goal of the weekend was to meet with Thibideaux, not see how many more cash cows they could find for Overwatch. She had briefly entertained the idea of what she could do with extra funding, but a small voice in the back of her head warned her that she was beginning to sound like Moira. 

With one last coating of mascara, Angela straightened up in front of the mirror and focused her thoughts back on the present and on the busy night that stretched out before her. Dressing up was always a fun experience, and the first flutters of anticipation and excitement stirred in her stomach when she looked back at her reflection in the mirror. She nodded at herself and stocked her purse with a tube of lipstick and extra bobby pins, slipped on her shoes, and left her room. 

She froze at the sight of Genji waiting for her in the living room, lounging on the couch in his tuxedo like a king in his castle. He caught her staring and grinned. But a split second later he was staring right back at her, brown eyes wide. 

“Wow,” he said and Angela blushed. 

She let her eyes wander over Genji in the close fitting, black tuxedo and felt the rest of her body grow warm too. Their gazes locked on eachother. A knock sounded at the door and broke the sudden tension in the room. 

“Your car is here!” Josephine called through the closed door. 

“Thank you, Josephine!” Angela called without looking away. “We’ll be right down!”  

Genji and Angela spoke at the same time. 

“Angela, you--”

“You look--” 

Angela couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled its way out through her lips. Genji huffed a laugh too, low and intimate. They avoided eye contact for a while before Genji cleared his throat and said, “I guess we should go.” 

“Yes. I guess we should,” she agreed. She watched him rise from the couch in one graceful motion. The fabric of the tuxedo pulled tight across his shoulders and Angela would swear up and down that she didn’t enjoy the way it did the same thing across his ass. She pretended to straighten her skirt so Genji wouldn’t catch her staring at him. 

“How does my behind look in these pants?” 

“Shut up.” 

He laughed and held the door open for her. 

 

***

Lucien Thibideaux lived in the heart of the Garden District near the Audubon Zoo. They passed through a gate at the front of a private street lined with the homes of the rich and famous. Genji exhaled reverently and gushed as they drove by a celebrity’s mansion. He looked so excited that Angela couldn’t help but smile. 

Eventually, their car pulled up to an enormous, sprawling mansion built in the ancient plantation style from America’s barbaric past. Elegantly dressed people lounged about on the beautiful wrap-around porch and light spilled out onto the lawn from enormous floor to ceiling windows. Every room in the house was lit up, bright and welcoming, and Angela could hear the famous New Orleans jazz flowing through the air before she even opened her car door. She heard Genji thank the driver behind her before exiting the car as well and then they were on their way inside. 

Inside the atmosphere was one of celebration and excitement. A live band of omnics and humans played from the corner of the front room and a team of black tie waiters wandered from room to room carrying trays of food and drink. Angela happily grabbed two flutes of champagne for herself and Genji but he declined. 

“I’m working, Angela.” 

“Suit yourself!” She said and happily drank from both, enjoying the fizzy, bubbly sensation. 

“Dr. Ziegler!” A deep voice boomed from across the room. A tall, dark skinned man made his way through the crowd and beamed at her. “Lucien Thibideaux.” He stuck his hand out to shake but laughed when he noticed Angela holding two champagne glasses. “Enjoying the party already, I see? Don’t they give you any off time over there at Overwatch?” His voice was smooth like honey and Angela found herself smiling. 

“Not nearly enough,” she said. 

“Well I’ll give you a few minutes to enjoy yourself then, mon cher. But if you would be so kind as to join me in the upstairs parlor when you have a chance? Of course your associate,” he smiled at Genji who nodded stiffly back, “is more than welcome to join us as well.” 

“We’re here at your invitation, Mr. Thibideaux. We can talk now if you like,” said Angela. 

“No, no,” Thibideaux raised his hands, palms out and shook his head. “I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. Try some of the food, maybe dance a little. And please, call me Lucien.” He backed away a few steps before turning and melding back into the party. 

“What a pleasant man,” Angela said quietly, watching him move fluidly between his guests.

“Hm,” Genji said non committedly. 

A waiter went by with a tray of little fried shrimp and Angela had to chase him down to try some. She spent an enjoyable amount of time sampling the different dishes being carried around and swaying in time to the music. Genji stopped her from drinking two more glasses of champagne. She leveled him with a withering glare so she could keep one of them. Eventually Genji whispered in her ear that it was probably time to go meet with Thibideaux and she reluctantly put down the dish of something called stuffed mirliton (the waiter had had to talk her through how to pronounce it because her Swiss accent made it difficult to say “meh-lay-tawn” but it was delicious and stuffed with shrimp) and followed Genji upstairs. 

Thibideaux was waiting for them in what he had called the upstairs parlor but Angela would call a library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, crammed full of books, some in French but most in English. Thibideaux himself sat in a large leather armchair behind the desk and Angela paused in the doorway when she saw the IV drip he was currently hooked up to. 

“Enjoying the party, Dr. Ziegler?” 

“Are you alright, Mr. Thibideaux?” 

“I’m afraid not, Doctor.” He grimaced and fiddled with the needle in his arm. “I invited you here for a consultation I’m afraid. And please, do call me Lucien.” 

Angela suddenly wished that she hadn’t had the three glasses of champagne. “I’m afraid I haven’t brought any of my equipment with me tonight.” 

He waved his hand. “No I don’t want treatment, per say. I just want to know how long I have left.” 

The only sound in the room was the faint whirring of the fans keeping Genji’s cybernetics cool. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

Thibideaux took a deep breath. “Cancer. In my brain, I’m afraid. Gliobastoma.” 

Angela inhaled sharply. With all of the advances in medical technology, some cancers were still more dangerous than others to deal with. And the human brain was always tricky. “When did you receive the diagnosis?” 

“Six months ago.” 

Angela closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thibideaux.”

“It’s not your fault, mon cher.” 

She did the math in her head. If Thibideaux had received his diagnosis six months ago then the odds were that he would be dead by the end of the year. When she told him so, he nodded like that was the response he had expected. “I’m sorry you brought us all the way out here for nothing, Mr. Thibideaux.” 

He smiled sadly. “It was not for nothing, Doctor Ziegler. And please, call me Lucien.” 

 

***

“Don’t you think it’s strange that he brought us all the way out here when he already knew that you couldn’t help him?” Genji said as soon as they were back at the bed and breakfast. After their conversation with Thibideaux they had returned briefly to the party and Angela had down two more glasses of champagne in quick succession before Genji decided that it was time for them to leave. Her inability to help people suffering from cancer made her feel so powerless and useless. What good was all of her technological advances in the field of medicine if she still couldn’t save everyone? Angela staggered into their suite and dropped her purse on the floor and toeing off her shoes. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

Angela turned to face Genji and then realized that she had spoken out loud. “Still, I should be able to help them,” she protested. “I didn’t become a doctor to sit idle while disease rips through good people.” She stomped into the kitchen in search of more alcohol. “Why didn’t Josephine put any liquor in this kitchen. I thought this city never stops partying!” 

She was aware of Genji’s disapproval of her behavior even from all the way on the other side of the room but she couldn’t help it. Thibideaux had been nothing but kind and respectful, had given Overwatch a truly insane amount of money, had brought them all the way here and what could she offer him in return? A death date. That was it. 

Angela made a triumphant noise when she uncovered a slightly dusty bottle of bourbon from the back of one of the cabinets and held up two glasses. She shook them both in invitation but Genji shook his head. 

“What, are you still working?” she wanted to know. On some level, she was pretty sure that all of that champagne had gone straight to her head and she should probably stop drinking but on another level Angela wanted to drink until she couldn’t remember the haunted, dejected look in Thibideaux’s eyes when she told him he might not live to see the new year. 

“Yes,” Genji answered her question. “I’m still working.” 

Angela huffed and sat on the couch, tucking her legs under her and rearranging her gown so that she was more comfortable. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m not.” 

Genji shook his head and left the room, probably to change out of the tuxedo. She would be sad to see it gone. Angela pouted on the couch and poured herself a glass of bourbon. 

Several drinks later and she had abandoned the glass completely and was drinking straight out of the bottle. Her thoughts didn’t quite connect to one another anymore and she forgot why she had been so morose and drinking so heavily. At some point, Genji must have brought her to her bed because she woke up the next morning still in her dress with a disgusting hangover. 

She groaned and rolled out of bed, dragging herself into the bathroom for a shower. When she emerged from her room some time later, Genji was in the kitchen, finishing up washing dishes from making the stack of pancakes she spotted on the table. His bags were stacked in the hallway. 

“Good morning, Angela,” he greeted. 

“Guten Morgen,” she mumbled in return. “You made pancakes,” she said, more of a statement and less of a question. 

“I made pancakes,” he agreed. 

“I love pancakes.” 

“I know you do. I figured you could use some after last night.” 

Angela grunted in response. She didn’t want to talk about it. Guilt clawed at her stomach that she couldn’t cure Thibideaux. Her staff was designed to stitch together battlefield wounds, not carefully maneuver around delicate brain cells, destroying some and reconfiguring others. Perhaps with enough calibration and more tests...She sighed. It wouldn’t save Thibideaux but maybe it could save someone else. 

“There’s a car coming to get us in about an hour, Angela,” Genji said. He rested his hand on her shoulder as he passed by. The flesh hand of course. “Jack wants us back in Gibraltar.” 

“Okay,” she said, through a mouthful of pancake. 

An hour later, Angela was all packed and ready to go. Josephine came to the door again to let them know their car had arrived and Angela thanked her for her hospitality. She put heavy emphasis on the word and cast a pointed glance in Genji’s direction. Josephine got the hint and had the courtesy to look embarrassed but didn’t say anything to him. 

The ride back to the airport passed quickly. Her melancholy mood weighed down on her and she only glanced up from looking at her hands in her lap when Genji opened her door for her in the hanger. He loaded their bags into the jet and tipped the driver. Angela climbed on board and strapped herself into the same seat she had flown over in a few days before.

The jet rumbled as they took off. Angela watched out the window as the city grew steadily smaller. She was surprised when she realized that she would miss it. To think, that Dr. Angela Ziegler would miss anywhere in the United States. She chuckled at the thought. 

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get back to Gibraltar?” she called up to Genji in the cockpit. He preferred to pilot the jet during the takeoff sequence before giving the wheel over to the A.I. for the rest of the flight. 

“It should only take a few hours,” he called back. 

A few hours. And then she would have to get back to reality. Somehow manage to forget the way Genji had looked in his tuxedo. Wouldn’t Jack be so happy to find out that they had been given so much money for essentially nothing. Thibideaux’s cancer made it impossible for her to help him. She watched the sunlight glisten off of the black water of the bayou beneath them and wished that she could have helped him. The man was pleasant and kind, so different from what she had been expecting from a man who had made his fortune in construction. 

The jet veered suddenly to the left and she hit her head, hard on the window. Her vision swam and she heard a strange, high pitched wailing sound in the distance but everything sounded like she was underwater. A few seconds passed and everything around her lurched again, flinging her in the opposite direction. Only the seatbelt secured across her lap prevented her from spilling out into the aisle. 

The wailing solidified into a klaxon, the emergency alert system screaming at them that they were under attack. But...they were in south Louisiana. Who could possibly be shooting at them? Angela shook her head to stop her vision from losing focus too much and immediately regretted it when the pain spread.

“Genji!” she shouted through gritted teeth. “What’s happening?” 

The jet rolled again and she held onto the armrest with a white knuckled grip. Something heavy hit the right side of the fuselage, tearing through the outer shell. Wind screamed its way through the hole, whipping up flames and sudden smoke.

Angela had just enough time to see the face of the omnic, its eyes glowing bright and unforgiving, before everything broke apart around her and suddenly she was falling. 

 

And falling.

 

And falling…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that for a cliff hanger! Feel free to follow me on tumblr at eileenonthings to yell at me about it! Or leave kudos and comment! ❤


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Enjoy the POV change~~

“Is the young master ready?” 

He ignored the forced politeness of the voice from the other side of the shōji and concentrated on peeling off the gloves without splattering green on his t-shirt. 

“Your presence is requested by your father,” the voice reminded him.

“You can tell Sojiro that he can fuck off.” The audible gasp he got in response from the servant made him smirk even though there was still a miniscule voice in the back of his head, so tiny it barely cast a shadow that told him that his father deserved some respect. He demanded it. But long years of practice let him smother that voice with the same ruthlessness that the rest of his family was known for. 

Years of training and survival instinct alerted him when the presence on the other side of the shōji changed. Alarm bells went off in his head, alerting him to his brother. 

A terse, “Genji,” was all the warning he had before the door slid open and Hanzo stepped into the room. He watched his brother’s eyes narrow and nostrils flair. “Have you no shame?”

“Don’t like green, brother?” 

Hanzo crossed his arms over his chest and glared down his nose at him. “You dishonor yourself and you dishonor your family.” 

Genji scoffed. “What, all because I dyed my hair green? You’re so dramatic, Ojii-chan.” He turned around and busied himself with wiping down the sink. 

Hanzo snapped, “Don’t call me that,” before taking a step further into the room. “The servants can do that. We need to go now.” Hanzo’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder and steered him out of the room. “Father wants us.” 

Sojiro Shimada sat with his back ramrod straight in the heart of the castle. The enormous twisting dragons painted behind him were designed to strike awe in visitors when they came to beg the clan for protection. It was Sojiro’s favorite place to hold court and remind everyone of his control; the dragons may be tame, but they answer only to the Shimadas. The only indicator of his father’s declining health was the nasal cannula that everyone knew not to acknowledge or even so much as glance at. As always their father was flanked on either side by the most powerful of the Shimada warriors. Hanzo took his place to the right. 

Sojiro’s expression was positively glacial. “Sparrow,” he said, voice soft and disappointed. “Why must you hurt me so?” 

Genji bit the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, part of him still craved his father’s approval. Sometimes it was a larger part of him than he cared for. 

“I am dying. You know this. And instead of caring for your family I hear you are out galavanting with...unsavory characters and fighting over women. This will not stand.” 

For once Genji held his tongue and said nothing. 

Sojiro raised his voice and leaned forward. “You disappoint me.” 

Genji swallowed painfully. He watched his father’s eyes narrow in disgust and in that moment he had never seen him look so like his eldest son. Sojiro turned to glare at Hanzo. “You both do.” 

His father died later that night. 

Genji didn’t attend the funeral. Sojiro’s last words spoken echoed in Genji’s ears. ‘ _ You disappoint me.’ _ If that was the legacy his father had saddled him with, than so be it. The family disappointment. 

When Genji stumbled back into the castle at half past three in the morning, two men were waiting for him. They were dressed in the suits and ties that marked them as security for the new head of the Shimada clan. In silent tandem the pair flanked him and escorted him into the main reception hall. Hanzo sat at the far end, back ramrod straight like Sojiro, eyes narrowed like Sojiro, haughty expression like Sojiro. In his drunken state, Genji kept seeing his father’s face superimposed on Hanzo’s. 

“How could you do this?” The disappointment in his voice reminded him of Sojiro again. 

Genji shrugged. “Do what exactly?”

“Dishonor our father in this manner!” Hanzo snapped. 

Genji wondered how long his brother had been sitting there beneath the dragons. Had he been waiting this entire time for him to come home just so he could scold him? Prove he was more in control than their father had been? It wasn’t until Hanzo practically snarled at him that he realized he had spoken out loud. 

“You need to grow up, Genji. You have responsibilities now.”

Genji scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Since when have you ever cared about what I got up to?” 

“Since I became head of this family.” Hanzo’s eyes blazed and even in his drunken state Genji became acutely aware of the men standing in the upper balconies above them. “Control yourself, brother. Before I have to do it for you.” 

***

He tried, he really did. A healthy combination of alcohol and sleeping with strangers every night helped him stifle the recurring thought that life could be better than this. If he had been born anyone else, he wouldn’t have to be involved in the shit the Shimadas reeked of. Instead of accidentally walking in on a meeting about assassinating the president of one of the largest banks in Japan, Genji could have instead stumbled into a meeting on whether or not a vacation in Seoul was a good idea. Or rather than being roped into playing bodyguard to their most successful exporter, he could’ve gone to a music festival. 

Hanzo’s first year of heading the Shimada clan had seen Genji washing blood off of his hands more times than he could count, and most of the time not all of it was his own. It felt like a black hole had opened up somewhere in his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the constant vortex of violence. When it got to be too much, Genji turned to the comfort of strangers and alcohol for relief. And the occasional drug. Sometimes it was more than occasional. 

He rarely saw Hanzo, and when he did his brother was constantly surrounded by elders trying to gain sway with the new head of the family or the ever present security detail that tracked the movements of everyone in the vicinity and lashed out when they felt their master was threatened. By rights and tradition, Genji should be among those protecting his brother. But Genji had had enough of tradition. Gone were the days when Genji would trail after Hanzo, calling out, ‘Nii-san! Wait for me!’ and Hanzo holding his hand during important parties and meetings. It was as if the protective older brother had completely disappeared, and been eclipsed by a hard man who made even harder decisions. 

When it happened, Genji wasn’t even that surprised. The realization that yes, this was his older brother trying to murder him hurt, but he had read the signs for weeks. The sound of Hanzo’s katana unsheathing seemed as normal as the moon shining down on them. The violence wasn’t out of place, Genji was. 

***

So this was Hell, then. Genji coughed and more blood bubbled out of his mouth. It coated his throat and stained everything around him. He tried to roll over and curl in on himself, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. It felt like half of him was missing. When he managed to barely lift what was left of his chin up he noticed that yes, half of him was actually missing. 

So Hell was hovering just between existing and not existing. He wondered if he would stay like this, bleeding out but not enough to die completely, but losing enough blood to make moving anywhere impossible. His memory of the night flashed through his mind, each second layed out in excruciating detail. He closed his eyes and focused on dying. That seemed like the best course of action. What else was he supposed to do? 

“ _ Mein Gott _ .”

Was language was that? Had Hanzo followed the trail of blood out of the castle to finish him off? Or maybe...a little spark of hope blossomed in his chest...maybe Hanzo had come to save him. He tried to reach out but his arm didn’t respond. He tried with the other. 

The voice solidified itself into something feminine. Opening his eyes again felt like more torture. 

  
  


It was an angel. 

 

A fucking angel had come down to pull Genji out of Hell. Through the haze of pain and misery, he caught beautiful blonde hair and eyes so blue they reminded him vividly of a trip he had taken to the Mediterranean once. She spoke again but he didn’t hear her. Genji was already on his way to heaven, he had nothing more to give to this Hell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta da! 
> 
> I thought it would be really interesting to do a POV change at this point in the story so we can see what Genji's life was like before he ended up at Overwatch and with Angela. Obviously things were pretty bleak but since we don't have any lore about specifics I thought I would give it a shot and spice things up a little bit. As always kudos and reviews are forever appreciated! Thank you all so much for coming on this ride with me!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And back to the present!

Nothing could have prepared him for the omnic tearing apart the fuselage. Angela’s scream cut through the air and it was like a knife straight through his chest. He heard her cry out for him once and then the aircraft split. A quick glance showed that the wings were still attached to his half and he could glide down without too much danger but Angela…

Angela would sink straight to the ground with the rest of the flaming wreckage. 

Genji forced himself to focus on landing half of the jet. The klaxon still blared at him and the rest of the screens splayed out in front of him flashed red and sang their own alarms. It would be a fucking miracle if he survived.

***

It was probably the water that saved him. That and the slogging mass of mud that reeked of decaying plant matter and stuck uncomfortably in his joints. He had sensors running throughout the cybernetics that alerted him when something was wrong and they were all hell bent on informing him that a swamp was no place for a cyborg. Genji pointedly ignored the distressing green sludge dribbling out of his right arm. If it was still human it probably would’ve been blood but whatever Angela had used to help mobilize the cybernetics was somehow worse to see trickling down his forearm. 

His heart clenched at the thought of Angela. He had to find her. 

If she was even still alive.

No, he couldn’t afford to think like that. Against all odds Angela had saved him and now, he was going to return the favor damned arm leaking goo or not. The crash hadn’t been as hard on him as it could have. The cooling fans in his cybernetic limbs were whining slightly, but other than the green steadily leaking out of him, he was fine. He marveled at Angela’s skill for the millionth time and wondered how he would thank her if they got out of this. A human body might not have survived the crash as well as he had. Genji grit his teeth and shoved the thought out of his mind. 

He could still see the trail of smoke across the sky leading back to where they were first attacked. The rest of the jet had probably crashed somewhere over there. And Angela along with it. 

Even with adrenaline still thrumming in his veins it was slow going. There didn’t seem to be a single spot of dry land anywhere and his feet kept getting bogged down in the silt. He wasn’t sure how long he could swim either. Angela had never explicitly warned him against it and he still showered and everything, but being half submerged in the black water of a bayou with a lame arm didn’t make him feel at all comfortable exposing the rest of his body to the elements. 

If he still had his old body this wouldn’t be such a problem. But there was also a chance that if he had his old body it would’ve been wrecked during the crash. 

While he slogged his way through the cloying muck Genji focused on figuring out who the hell had shot them down in the first place. Overwatch had many enemies, several of whom he had taken out himself on missions with Reyes. There weren’t many that would have the balls to shoot down an Overwatch jet with their head of medical research on board though. Unless their goal was to kill the chief surgeon. Afterall, he had been assigned this mission as Angela’s personal bodyguard. Her job wasn’t without its dangers and he had just failed spectacularly in his assignment. 

Thinking of Angela as just an ‘assignment’ left a sour taste in his mouth. She meant much more to him that just that. His mind flitted through the possibilities of what he would find when he finally made his way through the bayou to where the rest of the jet had gone down. He swore and forced his mechanical body to move faster through the water.

He had no way of knowing how much time passed before he finally got close enough to smell the reek of burning plastic and insulation. A lifetime spent around organized crime and wetwork made him cautious so he approached carefully, alert for any sudden sound or movement. Not for the first time, his paranoia paid off. 

Two men were sifting through the wreckage, clearly looking for something. Genji crept closer and resisted the urge to slit their throats. 

“What’s it supposed to look like again?” The closer of the two men asked. He made no effort to keep his voice down. 

“Boss said it just looked like some sort of staff,” the other called back. 

The fucking caduceus staff. If all of this was just so some pricks could get their hands on Angela’s tech Genji was going to murder them. He reasoned it would be a nice way to channel some of his anger. 

After scanning the immediate area near the searchers he ignored them. He didn’t see Angela anywhere close by them, therefore they weren’t important. A half dozen small fires still burned and the smoke gave him more cover as he picked his way carefully through the wreckage. She could literally be anywhere. He thought he remembered her strapping in but just because she had a seat belt on didn’t mean it would’ve stayed secure once the whole thing blew. And if an omnic had ripped through the fuselage that meant it had been looking for something. Or someone. 

His arm had stopped leaking but the elbow joint was completely frozen now. The sludge had dried in the crevices and he couldn’t bend his arm at the elbow anymore. When he turned quickly at a small sound the whole thing swung at the shoulder like a marionette puppet. The source of the sound almost made him splash carelessly through the water. He stopped at the last minute because he was worried that the large ripples would exacerbate her injuries.

“Angela,” he whispered, heart in his throat, and slowly made his way toward the blonde hair he could just barely see peeking out of the water. When he reached her side the water was up to his chest. He stretched out his good hand and brushed some of the hair back from her face. Her eyelids flickered and she moaned pitifully again. The sound made his hand shake. Angela was never supposed to be in pain like this. A quick survey of what he could see made a dark, terrible anger burn in his heart. 

Half of her body was still under the dark water, but a distressing cloud of red surrounded her. A head wound had turned most of her bangs crimson and when he tried to gently pry her out of the seat she was still strapped to he pulled back quickly. His hand had brushed something hard sticking out of her arm. The blood suggested that it was her ulna. 

Genji took a deep breath and categorized everything by priority. Number one was to get Angela somewhere safe, somewhere other than here. The men searching the wreckage were creeping ever closer and it was only a matter of time before they were spotted. Number two would have to be triage. He hoped Angela stayed unconscious because moving her was going to hurt like a fucking bitch. 

“Found it!” A deep voice called out close enough that adrenaline flooded his veins again and Genji tensed up to fight. But the man hadn’t called out because he found  _ them _ . Genji watched with mounting horror and understanding as the man pulled the caduceus staff free from the wreckage. 

The whole reason they had been attacked was for Angela’s miraculous medical technology. Angela moaned again, louder this time and for one heart stopping moment he thought that they had been discovered, but the man was too busy crowing about his prize. Eventually, the searchers left the site, enthusiastically patting each other on the back. Genji took note of the direction they left in. He smothered the urge to immediately go after them and add their blood to the bayou. Getting Angela to safety was more important right now. The amount of smoke wasn’t good for either of them and the thought of the nasty swamp water seeping into Angela’s open wounds made his skin crawl. 

Then he saw the oil in the water. The jet fuel. 

It was a miracle it hadn’t already caught flame. 

Genji swore and hooked his good arm under Angela’s and tried to pull her free. Something held her in place and made him slip. He cursed again and felt frantically around for the seat belt and all the while the slight current brought the jet fuel closer and closer to the fire. He cut through the belt with one of his shuriken, grateful to Moira who probably sat in her lab thousands of miles away creating more tech to increase Blackwatch’s efficiency. It took a mad scramble but he was finally able to pull Angela out and away. He hooked his good arm around her shoulders and used the depth of the water to his advantage. Angela floated gently behind him while he half swam half dragged them both as far from the inevitable explosion. 

The blast still took him by surprise. One minute he was still floundering around in the water and the next the world devolved into a fiery maelstrom, blowing them both several feet back and shattering his ear drums. The cypress trees around them all caught fire and the smoke blocked out the sun. Desperate to get the them hell out of there, Genji dug into reserves he didn’t know he even possessed and slung Angela across his back and  _ swam _ . 

***

 

Pain brought her back to her body. The sickening feeling of falling had given away to an even more horrifying realization: the jet had been shot down. Her thoughts kept bouncing around, her mind’s way of protecting itself. She knew her body was going into shock. It was her mind’s way of avoiding the way the smoke coated the inside of her throat and made her gag, her mind’s way of ignoring the pale white bone sticking out of her forearm, blood streaking down the side and staining everything it touched with thick, crimson red.

She thought she was moving. She had a quick fantasy of maybe she was still in New Orleans, riding one of the street cars and holding hands with Genji. It felt like he was still close by.

She hoped he hadn’t been killed when the omnic brought the jet down out of the sky.

***

When she came to again the smell of smoke had faded and she heard the sound of someone muttering under their breath but she couldn’t make out the words. The syllables sounded too quick and close together for her battered brain to parse out. And she was moving. Opening her eyes took a titanic effort, but she managed. She was lying on something hard and solid that was being dragged across the ground. The muttering continued. She identified it as Japanese. 

“Gen...ji..?” 

She stopped moving and she heard the person curse again. “Angela!” Genji’s face appeared above her. He looked terrible. Blood covered the side of his head, dried into a flaky crust and she could see sparks spitting from his arm. But the relief in his eyes made her lips twitch in a small smile. 

“Hi,” she said. “What happened?” The English words sounded false on her tongue and for a moment she felt like a child again, terrified and hurt, desperate for comfort and safety. She didn’t realize her cheeks were wet until Genji reached out to gently wipe her tears away. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead with a shaking hand. She didn’t like the way her hair sounded crunchy. 

“Omnics,” he said between gritted teeth. The single word sent a shiver down her spine.

“It hurts,” she whimpered, shame making its presence known with fresh tears. How many times had she been on the other side of this conversation? Trying to get a patient to calm down and assure them that the pain would be gone soon. She just had to set up her nanotech… “My staff, Genji.” 

His jaw set in a hard line. “Gone,” he said. “I watched them pull it from the wreckage. I can’t heal you.” 

Her mind skipped between thoughts, flitting around rabbit-like, trying to organize itself. Someone had attacked them, shot them out of the sky, and all just to take the Caduceus staff? She shifted on the hard surface she was laying on and winced when something dug painfully into her side. 

“Am I on a raft?” 

“Sort of,” Genji sighed. Angela glanced down at what she was laying on and saw a few branches strapped together to create enough of a surface so that most of her was out of the water. Her feet hung off the end and dangled in the water. She had the absurd thought that something would come by and nibble at her toes so she pulled them close to her chest and the whole makeshift raft nearly flipped over. Only Genji leaning on the opposite side kept her from being tipped back into the bayou. 

She took another look around at where they were and her heart sank. Enormous cypress trees stood sentinel all around them while their offshoots stretched up like fingers towards the sky. She heard the cry of a strange bird and tried to shoo away the biggest mosquito she had ever seen and cried out when her arm protested her movements. Genji had wrapped a filthy cloth over the spot where her ulna had broken through the skin but her arm would still need to be set. 

“Where are we?” 

He shrugged helplessly. “Somewhere in the fucking swamp.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm really sorry this update took so long!! I hit a road block with my writing and the ideas just sort of stopped coming for a while. Luckily, with the help of my sister and brother in law I managed to get back on track! It's so nice having such a supportive family that I can turn to for my writing! 
> 
> This chapter contains some pretty gross medical issues but I kept it vague. The next chapter will be far worse so if that's not your cup of tea this is your warning.

Doctors often asked their patients to rate their pain of a scale of one to ten, with ten being the sort of “Holy mother of God I’m dying” and one being nothing more than a splinter. The shocking, white hot pain that ripped through her the moment Genji finally managed to set her arm gave Angela a whole new understanding of the pain scale. She didn’t know if she screamed or not but when the black spots faded from her eyes her throat felt raw. It took several moments for her to realize that Genji had all but thrown himself on top of her, one hand covering her mouth. She flinched back from him when he started to bind her arm in a splint and Genji slowed his movements. 

“I am trying to follow your instructions, Angela,” he said softly. He sounded apologetic but continued urgently. “We have to be quiet. I don’t know how many more of them there are.” 

“W-What?” She took a deep breath and tried to focus on anything but the uncomfortable feeling of her heartbeat in her arm. It had stopped bleeding but she was painfully aware of the amount of swamp water the open wound had been exposed to. Now that the bone had been set the next thing she had to worry about was infection settling in. Maybe if Genji could find some way to start a fire and something metallic than she might just be able to coax him into helping her cauterize it too. Minimizing the chance of infection in such a hostile environment would increase their chances of living through it. 

“The ones who shot us down are nearby. They are still searching for something.” 

Angela seized on the opportunity to think of anything but the throbbing pain in her arm. “But they already have my staff. Anyone can operate it. That’s part of the beauty of my design.” 

Genji stiffened at her side and the movement brought her attention back to his damaged arm. “Genji,” she murmured, reaching out for it. “Let me take a look at your arm.” 

“It’s you,” he hissed. He shifted again, closer this time, like he was trying to hide her body with is. She watched his eyes flit suspiciously around them. Any other time and she would be flushed head to toe by his close proximity. He supported most of his weight on his arms and their chests were nearly pressed flush together. But instead of her heart skipping a beat at the way her breasts brushed against him when she breathed, her heart sank as she understood the meaning behind his words.

They were looking for her. 

“If I had been a better pilot--”

“Stop,” Angela interrupted. The last thing she wanted was for Genji to start blaming himself. She made an abortive gesture with her good arm. “There was nothing--”

“There was everything I could have done.” His harsh tone was belied by the gentleness of his touch when he sat up and continued to wrap her arm in a split. Angela shivered at the sudden absence of his warmth and wondered briefly if she had a fever already. “I was not quick enough and now you have suffered the consequences.” 

“It was bound to happen eventually. Get it?  _ Bound _ ? Because now my arm is bound in a sling.” A giggle bubbled its way out and suddenly Angela couldn’t stop laughing. A tiny, rational sounding voice in the back of her head told her that this was a sign of her body going into shock.  _ About damn time _ . Shock was better than wondering why an omnic had launched itself at their jet, ripped a hole through the wall and--Angela remembered the way the omnic had looked at her right before they fell out of the sky. Genji covered her mouth again to stifle the new noise she made, something between a laugh and a sob.

They were looking for her. But why?

“ _ Gott verdammt _ .” She closed her eyes. 

***

When she opened them again it was significantly darker and her surroundings had changed slightly. The sounds of the swamp waking up for the night surrounded them on all sides, but Angela heard it all through a feverish daze. Something cold and wet brushed against her brow. Genji wiped the sweat from her forehead with another scrap of cloth nearly identical to the one wrapped around her arm. It was that dumb Hawaiian shirt she had bought him from the French Quarter. She felt a momentary pang of disappointment at its loss. Genji had looked cute in it. He still looked good in just the undershirt though, something that she told him point blank. 

She watched with a surprisingly deep satisfaction as his cheeks darkened. Then he scowled. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Angela. You have a fever.” 

She scolded him. “I know exactly what I’m saying, Mr. Shimada. And I say that you are beautiful. Now come here so I can tell you something else.” She motioned him closer but he stayed frozen, staring down at her with wide eyes. His brown eyes really were beautiful and in the fading light of dusk they looked almost black. She tried to sit up and everything took on a sort of dreamlike quality. The orchestra of the bayou around them reached a crescendo as Angela brought her face closer to Genji’s. She decided that she might as well move the dream to forward to its logical conclusion and leaned in slightly to brush her lips across his. 

It was just a chaste, closed mouth kiss and yet Angela felt something jolt between them. She hummed contentedly in the back of her throat and moved to kiss him again, this time pressing forward a little more. Genji stayed perfectly still, almost like he was carved from marble, for a second longer before his flesh hand came up and oh so gently brushed the side of her face. He returned the kiss briefly, but it was still long enough for Angela to feel the longing behind the gesture before he pulled back, hand still cupping her face. He brushed his thumb over her cheek bone carefully, like she was made of glass and smiled sadly at her. 

“Try to get some rest, Angela,” he murmured quietly and turned away, hand dropping to his side. “You are injured and feverish. Tomorrow you will think more clearly and realize your error in judgement.” 

She started to protest. This dream version of Genji wasn’t supposed to act this way. He was supposed to scoop her up in his arms, head thrown back in a laugh and kiss her breathless, not turn away and disappear into the darkness. She barely got the first word out before her head grew so heavy that she couldn’t hold it up anymore and she drifted back into a feverish haze. 

 

***

When she woke again it was to the sound of foreign voices. 

There were men nearby, several of them. And from the bits and pieces of their conversation that her fever addled brain was able to put together they were searching for something. 

She was too weak to lift her head. Her arm felt uncomfortably hot and she smelled something worse than the swamp water around them. It was the smell of putrefaction and decay and it was coming from her arm. She hoped it hadn’t already turned septic. If it did she had mere hours left.

Angela searched around as best she could for Genji. She caught a glimpse of him crouching behind a clump of bushes. She watched him put a finger to his lips and draw out a few of his shuriken. Fear flooded her veins, making her heart beat faster and her breath hitch in her lungs. 

The first two men in the search party fell with barely a sound aside from the splash they made into the water. But by then it was too late and Genji was among them.

_ “Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!” _

Angela blinked. The fever was definitely taking its toll because it looked like Genji...was surrounded by a green glow of a dragon. Her mind flashed quickly back to that glimpse of the yakuza style tattoo on his leg that she had seen during the first stages of his recovery and his unprecedented rate of healing. She blinked again and watched Genji slashed through one of their assailants like he was made of paper. 

The crack of a gunshot cut through the air.

Angela watched Genji fall in slow motion. 

“Tell the boss we’ve got them,” one of the men ordered into a commlink. He smirked down at Angela and the look made her skin crawl. “The doc’s in a bad way but I think she’ll make the trip just fine.” 

Glaring up at him took too much energy and Angela felt the darkness drag her back under. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally kissed!! Even though Angela was pretty delirious and thought it was all a dream! It still counts! 
> 
> Anyway, sorry this chapter was kind of on the short side and no real plot or anything happened until the very end but sometimes it just be like that. Thank you to everyone who is still reading and who was stuck with me from the beginning! Y'all are the absolute best!! I've got the wheels turning for the next act of this fic so everyone get ready to strap in for some angst in the next installment. It's not going to be pretty. You have been warned.
> 
> Review and leave kudos if you liked it!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note there are mentions of torture in this chapter! It's nothing too intense and I kept everything vague but this is your warning if you don't want to read stuff like that. I've updated the tags to reflect it.

He could already feel it starting to fight against the bullet lodged in his side. His dragon. The last thing to tie him to the Shimada at all. He could feel her, burning just under his skin, tired from their assault in the bayou but still trying valiantly to heal him. He had come to accept that there were two reasons why he had lived this long: his dragon and Angela. Once, it would’ve been nothing and he could’ve shrugged off a bullet wound. But that was when he was still whole. When they both were. 

He let himself get bogged down in thoughts of the past for a while. The memories of sunbathing on the beach, naked and whole, dancing all night with the music pounding in his ears distracted him from the  _ drip drip  _ of water coming from somewhere in the room that he heard through the tinny sound of a reconstructed eardrum. The ache that swelled up in his chest diverted his attention away from how he couldn’t move and the way he was strapped down to a table. He knew why they had kept him alive. Genji had seen the way those men had searched the wreckage for Angela’s staff and he remembered their euphoria when they found not only it intact but also its creator.

They didn’t want just Angela, they wanted her technology too. And to these people, he was just another piece of her technology. 

He had a long stretch of days in front of him.

Back when he was still a Shimada, before Hanzo had cut him to pieces, Genji had been on the other side of the table many, many times. Torture was just one of the many tools the Family had used to further their gains. The cold, hard table underneath him would become slick with blood soon enough. 

He tried to shift against his restraints and winced when his cybernetic arm refused to move at all. Then he immediately felt guilty for being concerned about a fake arm when Angela faced the very real possibility of losing her arm. The limb was already starting to show signs of infection before they were taken and it was only a matter of time before they passed the point of no return. Getting Angela out of here was going to be difficult, especially since he didn’t even know where  _ here  _ was. 

He was alone in a room lit by a single fluorescent light bulb which cast the whole room in a sickly yellowish light. The sounds of the swamp were barely kept at bay by the four walls and the tin roof was like something out of an old movie. Water dripped on his forehead. They clearly hadn’t left the bayou. A sudden click at the door was the only warning he had before three people entered the room.  

Two of them just looked like standard muscle, the type of cheap ass labor that if you give them enough cash they don’t get smart enough to ask any indecent questions about the kind of operation you were running. The third one though, the third one made Genji’s heart rate increase despite himself and he involuntarily jerked against his restraints. The third man wore a lab coat with a bored expression plastered across his face and he carried an old fashioned clipboard under one arm. 

He was here to take notes about whatever the two meatheads discovered with their none too gentle poking and prodding. 

“Oh good, it’s awake,” Meathead Number One said, grinning like a shark. “Just in time too.” 

“We are going to take you through some standard procedures,” the man in the lab coat said. His clinical tone made Genji’s skin crawl. “Please be honest about your answers. This is for the sake of science.” 

Genji spat and swore at him in Japanese. 

“I don’t think he speaks English,” Meathead Number Two chimed in. 

A new voice sounded from the doorway. Genji had been so focused on the three other men in the room that he hadn’t been paying attention to the rest of his surroundings. Gabe would’ve killed him for it. “I think his English sounded just fine the other night.” 

Lucien Thibideaux walked into the room. His nose wrinkled at the smell and he had the decency to look irritated. 

“Where is she?” Genji demanded, straining against his restraints again. 

“Dr. Ziegler is in recovery,” Thibideaux stated. “This is an unfortunate turn of events that could have been avoided,” he glanced over at the two meatheads who looked ashamed. “But it is of no matter. She remains mostly intact; therefore she can still perform her task.” 

Genji’s brain short circuited at the words ‘mostly intact.’ Did that mean that someone here in the middle of nowhere had nanites to knit back together the split and necrotic flesh of her arm?

“I want to see her.” 

Thibideaux shook his head. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for that. Since  _ someone _ ,” again, the cut to the meatheads, “doesn’t understand how to execute a simple task, we’re working on a bit of a time crunch. The last I checked Overwatch didn’t take kindly to people shooting down their planes.” 

For the first time since they crashed in the bayou, Genji felt the tiniest spark of hope flare up in his chest. They were coming for them. They had to be. He had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed since they called Gibraltar to let them know that they were on their way, but it was a good bet that their radio silence would be noted. And when they failed to land on time...Genji quickly did the math in his head. He would only have to endure for a day at most. 

He could survive a day of torture.  

Thibideaux moved to speak quietly with the man in the lab coat. Genji doubted the man was actually a doctor. Meathead Two left the room briefly only to return pushing a cart with trays of surgical equipment loaded onto it. He recognized some of them from his surgeries and his time spent around the infirmary. 

“Why?” If he was going to be tortured, he wanted to know why. 

The look Thibideaux gave him was almost inhuman. All traces of the smiling, jovial man from the gala the night before had vanished, leaving behind a cold shell. “I am dying from something truly horrible. You clearly survived something truly horrible. I want Dr. Ziegler to save me like she saved you.” 

Fury rose up in him, but Genji knew that the longer he kept them talking the more he would learn. And the less time they would have to make him bleed. “You think this is saved? Look at me! I am barely even human.”  

Thibideaux’s eyes took on a manic glint. “And yet you live.” He turned to the trio preparing for their first round. “Keep me updated.” He slammed the door shut behind him. 

“Now, as I was saying before, this is important. With Dr. Ziegler unconscious we cannot ask her important questions so we’re going to try to reverse engineer her work. Please keep your responses in English and easily understandable.” 

Genji stared at him incredulously. Like hell he was going to cooperate with these people. He would keep his mouth shut as long as possible and when he needed to, and he knew he would need to eventually, he would scream in Japanese. 

“Now tell me, does this hurt?”

He stayed quiet until they reached the interface between his spine and the cybernetics.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know it was short but hey, my chapters are always on the short side lmao rip. Thank you so much for reading! This story is starting to make its way to the end! So hang tight the next chapter is going to be one hell of a rescue~~


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude

Gabriel scowled at the little blinking red dot that marked the spot where Athena had lost contact with the jet. That tiny little dot shouldn’t have the power to make him feel so helpless and yet here he was, standing in front of the viewscreen feeling like he had just been caught with his pants around his ankles because he was paranoid, but obviously he wasn’t paranoid enough to think that someone would shoot down his head of medical research and surgery over  _ fucking Louisiana _ . Who the fuck even lived in Louisiana these days? A warm hand gripped his shoulder. 

“Athena managed to get a short clip from an external camera,” said Jack. “It’s not good, Gabe.”

The camera was designed to monitor the engines in case of accidental engine failure. The angle wasn’t great and his fingers itched to straighten it out, but it did the job. Gabriel watched the grainy footage as the hulking form of an omnic slammed into the side of the jet.

“Mother  _ fucker! _ ” he swore. They watched the jet crack in half. The side with the camera attached still had the wings and glided awkwardly towards the ground. The other side plummeted like a stone. 

“It doesn’t look good,” Jack said, voice strained. He squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder.

“They ain’t dead.” 

He reached up briefly and covered Jack’s hand with his own before turning on his heel and storming down the hall. “McCree, O’Deorain meet me in Hanger 2 in ten,” he growled across their comm channel. “We got us a rescue to gear up for. Hostiles expected. I want us up in the air in thirty.” 

After stopping by his weapons locker and grabbing his favorite guns, both birthday gifts from a few years back, Gabriel waited impatiently for the others in the hanger. Athena was already running the pre-flight checks on their aircraft and by the time McCree and O’Deorain finally showed up they would be ready to take off. He resisted the urge to tap his foot and glowered down at his watch instead, following the steady tic of the second hand. Sure it was more than a bit old fashioned to have a watch that still ticked but he liked the physical reminder of time passing. Each tic he heard was another moment that he kept breathing. As he watched the second hand make its way around the watch face each tic was another second that Ziegler and the Ninja weren’t safe. 

They could be getting tortured.

They could be dying by inches.

They could already be dead.  

If they were already dead he’d bring their bodies back for a proper burial. But first he would burn down the entire Louisiana swamp if he had to. He’d find the bastards who had done this and make them pay. 

The Ninja was in Blackwatch and that made him  _ his _ . And Gabriel always fought tooth and nail for one of  _ his _ . 

“You gonna tell us what’s got you all hot and bothered?” 

Gabriel looked up from staring at his watch.  _ Speak of the Devil and he shall appear _ . “The Ninja and the doc have run into some trouble in the States. We’re gonna go get them out.” He strode up the ramp and into the belly of the jet, knowing that McCree and O’Deorain would follow. 

“What sort of trouble?” O’Deorain asked smoothly. She followed him into the cockpit after stowing her bag in a locker. McCree followed suit but leaned casually in the doorway between the cockpit and the rest of the jet. He still had his ridiculous stetson perched firmly between his ears. The sight always made something small and warm hop in Gabriel’s chest, even at a time like this when he was hell bent on staying mad. Anger made him sharp, made him focus, made him stay in control. 

“The getting shot out of the sky kind of trouble.” He entered in the launch sequence and strapped in for the initial take off. He heard McCree swear before the heavy spurs retreated away from the cockpit to buckle down for take off. 

“Did they survive the crash?” asked O’Deorain.

Gabriel kept seeing that tiny, red light blinking mockingly at him. “I sure as hell hope so,” he said as the jet took off. 

It was a thirteen hour trip from Gibraltar to Louisiana. Gabriel prayed they made it in time.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help is on the way! 
> 
> I wanted to briefly go into how the others at the Watchpoint would feel about Angela and Genji getting shot down. I like the idea that Gabe was really protective of everyone in Blackwatch. Genji might still be relatively new to the team, but he's still Blackwatch which essentially makes him one of Gabe's kids. Or something. I don't know. 
> 
> By the way R76 is totally canon in my fic so here was a tiny bit of proof of that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a depiction of a panic attack and also mentions of torture. If that's not your cup of tea consider this your warning. Also some pretty dramatic body horror.

Something was wrong. 

She could tell before she even opened her eyes.

For one thing she felt light in a way that only ever came with heavy painkillers, but that could be explained away. Maybe someone from Overwatch had showed up just in time to rescue them after Genji had been shot. That seemed like something she should be worried about, Genji being shot. But the more she tried to focus on the idea, the more it slipped her mind. There was something else that wasn’t right, something that she should be panicking about, something worth screaming over. 

Angela opened her eyes and turned her head towards her left shoulder. 

Her arm was gone. 

“Oh,” she said. “Oh.” 

Something wet dripped onto her shoulder. Was it tears? Surely they were coming too fast to be tears. Maybe it was raining in here. 

She decided that she didn’t even care where ‘here’ was. Instead she stared at the bandage wrapped around the stump where her arm should be and let it rain on her. She felt the fingers of her left hand curl into a fist when in reality there was nothing there anymore. A distant sound began to filter into the room but it sounded far away, like it was from the other side of a wall. Someone was screaming. Her throat started to hurt and she realized that she was the one screaming themselves hoarse. 

Angela forced herself to stop screaming but it took a monumental effort. She tried to gather her wits and tried to piece together where she was. It quickly became obvious that she wasn’t with Overwatch because she knew that protocol didn’t require patients to be strapped down on a metal table. The sound of rain pounding hard on a tin roof and the muffled boom of thunder brought her thoughts briefly back to the crash, Genji pulling her through the bayou, Genji shielding her from view, Genji jumping into the midst of armed men, slicing and stabbing his way through them before falling to a gunshot. The men coming up to her, saying, “We got them.” 

So they had been taken and their captors had seen fit to saw her arm off. 

Angela couldn’t breathe. It seemed like no matter how hard her lungs labored to bring her air she couldn’t catch her breath. Her head began to spin and she knew she was having a panic attack. Part of her knew how to slow it down but the other half didn’t give a shit. It wanted to give in to the feeling of the walls closing, her lungs closing, blocking her body off from life giving oxygen because what was the point--

A sharp jolt of pain wracked her shoulder when she managed to draw another breath in and her screams subsided into sobs. She used the pain to focus through the haze of opiates.

The point was that if she was here, that meant that Genji was here somewhere as well. And she had to get to him. 

***

He heard her screaming through the walls. The sound cut through his own pain and made fury burn hotter in his heart. 

“Oh, it sounds like Dr. Ziegler is awake.” The doctor said and he stood from his seat in the corner of the room. “I must check in with her. Don’t die while I’m gone.” 

Genji spat a glob of blood all over the man’s lab coat. The door slammed shut behind the two meatheads and he was alone again and he had time to think. 

He kept thinking of the way Angela hummed whenever she worked in the medbay with the soft sounds of Chopin or Rachmaninoff drifting down from Athena’s speakers. Her quiet humming had helped him stay sane during the long hours of his recovery and he knew that he wanted to hear her hum every day if he could. And make her laugh and see her smile. Her smile made something twist in his belly and it was completely different from the self loathing and anger that churned there more frequently than not. Anger at what his brother had done, anger at what he had become, self loathing over how it was all his fault. But her smile,  _ God her smile _ ...

With no way of knowing how much time had passed Genji forced himself to focus and took stock of his current condition. His chest was covered with several burns from what he was pretty sure had been a cattle prod but he’d also been doing his best not to look too closely at is when they brought it to his skin. They had been trying to see how exposure to high levels of electricity interacted with his cybernetics. His flesh hand still had a bit of a tremor to it from the last go around and as for the cybernetic...after an experimental twitch the whole arm lifted off of the table with no issue at all. Genji grinned. Something that they had done during their experimentation had shucked all of the gunk out of the joints and it was as free as the day Angela had first greased it up. 

And the idiots hadn’t bothered strapping it down to the table. After all, what danger did a broken arm pose to them? 

He sat up carefully, ignoring the way his abdominals tried to seize up on him and began to unstrap himself from the table. The rain and thunder might drown out any sounds he made but he was still careful as he slid off of the table. It took a moment before his legs decided they wanted to fully support his weight and then he hobbled around the room in search of a weapon. One of the first things they had done was strip him of all of the shuriken in his arm. Then they decided to see how sharp they were and had tested that out on the tender skin on the underside of his flesh arm.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  He grabbed the restraints off of the table and waited in the space just beside the door where he would be hidden when his captors returned. The leather felt good in his hands. Footsteps sounded quietly in the hallway and Genji prepared himself. The door opened and only one pair of boots entered the room.

Perfect.

Meathead Two only had enough time to notice that there was no one on the table before Genji was on him. It was an easy thing to slip the leather strap over his head and even easier to draw it tight. He ignored the fingers clawing at his face and hands. They quickly turned their focus to the leather encircling their throat but by then it was too late. Genji pulled tighter and in a few moments it was all over. He dragged the body over into the corner.

One down, who even knew how many more to go.

He'd only seen four people the entire time he'd been here. That meant there could only be three more people, including Thibideaux, that he had to kill to get Angela out of here or there could three hundred. 

Either way, he had some hunting to do. 

  
  


***

Angela dreamt of wandering around somewhere outside in the sun. She wore a soft cotton sundress that she knew showed off her figure and so she twirled in it, laughing. Someone next to her laughed. He had Genji’s soft brown eyes. 

“Come dance with me in the sun,” he said and reached out a hand. She found she quite liked the way her hand fit with his. Her cybernetics didn’t bother her in the dream. It felt like they had always been like this, the two of them synced in perfect harmony with their artificial limbs. Music came from somewhere and she started to sway back and forth with him. Wildflowers tickled her ankles.

A shimmering green form swirled around them. It took on the form of a fearsome dragon with teeth as vicious as needles. The tang of ozone filled the air but she wasn’t afraid. The dragon comforted her and together she danced with the man in the warm field.

She had never felt so happy.

  
  
  


The sound of the door opening brought her back to herself. A man wearing a white lab coat came in flanked by two hard looking men. Dread replaced the happy bubble in her heart that the dream had produced.  

“Hello, Dr. Ziegler,” said the man in the lab coat. “I’m sorry you had to wake up this way. I’m a big fan of your work. We doctors are often called miracle workers but you, you take it to another level.” When he smiled he showed a lot of teeth. He didn’t offer his name. 

Angela turned her head away from him. It was the only act of defiance she could do with the rest of her body still strapped down. 

“Under more, shall we say, regular circumstances I would be able to get the information I need from you comm. However it is apparently heavily encrypted and I am informed that Overwatch’s A.I. is truly something to behold.”

She smirked in satisfaction. It was a small thing, sure, but Winston would be proud. Athena was holding her own. One of the henchmen coughed uncomfortably. She wondered if he was in charge of the hacking or if not, how many other people were out in the bayou with them. If it was only a few there was a chance that Genji was still in decent enough shape to get them out of there. She held no such illusions about herself. The moment her feet touched the floor she would probably fall over from lack of balance. For a few seconds she thought she might actually laugh out loud at the absurd image of herself, staggering around with only one arm and balanced shot to shit.  

“I was hoping we could come to an arrangement between us, as professionals,” her captor continued, completely oblivious to her struggling to keep her composer. That would be more of her mind trying to distract her. “You see, my employer is very interested in your cybernetic breakthroughs. He wants you to put your knowledge to good use. In exchange, I’ll let you check in with your partner.”

His words wormed their way her muddled thoughts. She turned to glare at him and the slight movement made the pain bloom in her shoulder again. This man, this  _ monster _ was really trying to threaten her into working with him. 

“I’m a reasonable man, Dr. Ziegler. I can make things more comfortable during your stay with us.” When she still didn’t respond she saw the first hint of malice creep into his eyes. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll have to glean all of my information from vivisection. And we both know how long subjects last under those conditions.” 

“Fuck. You.” She took care to enunciate each syllable clearly. 

“I see,” the man said. His tone turned completely glacial and her skin crawled. This was the man who had taken her arm. He gestured to the man at his right and the motion was met with an answering grin from the henchman. “Prep him for the next round.” 

Terror gripped her heart. These men had taken her because of her work. She knew that people were capable of horrible actions when they got desperate but this, this was a terrifyingly drastic action. Whoever this man’s employer was clearly had a dangerous amount of money at their disposal. A quick glance at her shoulder showed blood spots coming through the rough bandage. 

A loud  _ Boom!  _ shook the walls of the shack and Angela struggled against her restraints to sit up in bed. She could see the doctor trying to school his expression into one of cool indifference but she wasn’t fooled. Obviously that explosion was  _ not  _ expected. A second, more concussive explosion shook the thin walls of the compound. The sounds of fighting started outside the room accompanied by sudden loud blasts of gunfire.

“ _ Gott sei Dank, _ ” she murmured. “ _ Gott sei Dank _ .”

Her captor leaned in so close she could smell the licorice scent of his breath. He demanded, “Quickly! Tell me how you interfaced with the central nervous system.”

Angela mustered up the strength to spit in his face. The man snarled and grabbed hold of her shoulder. He pressed into the bandage and her vision turned white. She screamed. 

“You think I will help you?” She said when she had caught her breath again. “Now, after everything you have done?” The sounds of fighting drew nearer. She thought she heard the metallic thud of an omnic hitting the floor. “No self respecting doctor would help you! And I will see you and your employer brought up before a judge if it's the last thing I do.”

Frustration and disgust crossed the man’s face and he dug his thumb so hard into the already abused flesh of her shoulder that Angela thought she would pass out. Or die. Anything was preferable to this. 

The door flew open and she thought she heard someone come rushing in but little starburst had appeared in her vision. Focusing on them was preferable. It sounded like something heavy hit the floor and then she heard the distinctive sound of someone crying. A shaking hand reached out and stroked her face. She thought it could be Genji, but when they tried to shift her off of the table Angela lost her already tenuous grip on consciousness and slipped into darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for reading! For those of you who have been here since I posted my first few chapters thank you, thank you, thank you for your support and dedication! It makes my entire day when I get those emails about kudos and reviews.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone still here and on this adventure with me! I never thought that I would ever write something that over 3000 people have looked at but here we are! I want to thank my sister and brother in law for supporting me in this. They let me bounce crazy ideas off of them and let me know if the plot still makes sense. So thanks my dudes.

_ My fault. _

_ My fault. _

_ My fault.  _

The ugly thought ricocheted around his head, beating an angry tattoo against his skull. Genji punched the thing closest to him which happened to be an omnic trying to rip his head off. His metal fist connected with their face plate hard enough to crack it and the light left their eyes almost instantly. Small mercies. The stink of gunpowder and blood flooded the hallway. Any other time and the smells would have been familiar, almost comforting, like they were on any Blackwatch mission. He was born for violence like this, taking life ruthlessly and efficiently like a blade crafted from the sharpest steel. The recent modifications to his body had only helped hone him into a more effective killing machine. Except Jesse strode down the hall behind him carrying Angela because Genji had taken one look and fallen to pieces. 

_ My fault. _

_ My fault. _

_ My fault. _

He lead the way through the smoke, glad that he had paid attention when they brought him in the day before. They hadn’t bothered to blindfold either of them, not that it had mattered with Angela. She was too far gone by that point. 

_ My fault. _

The compound consisted of just a few shacks connected by cramped, corrugated steel hallways with the lingering scent of fish currently fighting its way through the reek of gunpowder.  Once, a fisherman had probably used it for overnight fishing trips out in the bayou. Now, a madman afraid of death was using it to wage war against Blackwatch. The hallways were pockmarked with countless rooms, the purposes of which ranged from simple storage for crawfish traps to the torture chamber he and Jesse had pulled Angela from. 

If he saw Thibideaux on the way out, he was going to kill him. Slowly. 

Anger curled thick and deadly around his heart, so strong he saw red and it felt like his eyes burned with it. 

“Let’s  _ go _ .” Reyes came storming out of the room next to them. He had blood spattered across his face and chest plate. It didn’t look like his. More dripped off of his knuckles.

Definitely not his, then. 

“Good thing we parked right next door,” Jesse said and ducked another salvo of gun fire. The movement jostled Angela but she didn’t make a sound. Genji didn’t know what was worse: her silence or the screaming he’d heard through the wall.

_ My fault. _

“Who would’ve thought,” Jesse continued as if they weren’t getting shot at. “That the neighbors would be so nasty out here. I always thought this area of the country was great.” He took a moment to drape his serape carefully over Angela, caccooning her more securely in his arms.

A sudden hush over the hallway.

“Where the hell is O’Deorain?” snapped Reyes, voice overly loud in the sudden quiet. He led them down the corridor, back brushing against the wall and one of his enormous shotguns in hand. Only a former member of the SEP could even hope to wield something so ridiculous. Usually, Genji found time to tease him about it on missions. But not today. 

The click of high heeled boots explained the sudden silence. Moira glided out of another of the rooms. She held a clipboard in one hand and Genji could see the lingering hint of purple dance across her fingertips. “Not to worry, Shimada,” she said and waved the clipboard at him. “It looks like I’ve found all of your lab notes.” 

Reyes grabbed his arm before he could hit her in the face. “We don’t got time for this,” he growled at Genji. “We get everything we came for?” he asked Moira. The meaning behind the question didn’t quite register with Genji but he watched his two teammates nod and decided he didn’t care. The just needed to get the fuck out of there so Angela…

_ My fault.  _

Again, the thought cut through everything else, only this time it was accompanied by a vicious twist in the gut so strong that for a moment he thought that the cattle prod had done more damage than his initial assessment. He kept seeing Angela on that table, a bloody stump where a delicate arm used to be. He followed Reyes out into the damp night air. 

He didn’t think about how quiet the compound was until they were loading up into the covert jet and Moira began the startup sequence. 

They probably killed everyone there.

He couldn’t bring himself to care. His anger had dissipated and a hollow feeling came in its wake. The constant thought came quicker and more insistently than his heartbeat.

_ My fault.   _

***

Immediately after take off, Moira engaged autopilot and launched into action. Jesse still cradled Angela carefully in his arms and he shuffled over to the rear of the jet where Moira busied herself with an array of bioemitters. Genji hovered anxiously nearby. Moira pressed a button in the center of a panel of blinking lights and a biobed slid smoothly out of the wall. Jesse deposited Angela onto it without prompting. She looked very small, laying on the biobed and wrapped up in Jesse’s serape. Moira shoved one of the bioemitters into his hands. 

“Turn that on,” she ordered without looking at him. Jesse fumbled with the cylinder for a moment but managed to turn it on. His hands were shaking when he settled it beside Angela. A soft yellow glow enveloped the two of them and Genji felt something inside him relax. They had made it out and now Angela’s recovery was in trustworthy hands. Someone tugged on his arm but he shrugged them off. He needed to make sure the bioemitter was working properly. If something went wrong--

“Come with me,” Reyes grumbled at him and pulled him away from the scene. He steered him into the cockpit and practically shoved him into the copilot chair. They could hear Moira ordering Jesse around in the background but otherwise it was quiet in the cockpit. 

“Report.” 

The terse, one word command pissed him off more than he thought it would. Fury flared up in his chest again, stoked white hot from the casual raise of Reyes’ eyebrow. There was a little too much understanding in Reyes’ brown eyed gaze and if he opened his mouth to speak he couldn’t be one hundred percent certain that his dragon wouldn’t come roaring out of it, regardless of their exhaustion and heedless of the fact that Reyes was his boss. 

“He’s dead,  _ mijo _ .” Reyes reached into his pocket and motioned for Genji to hold his hand out. Genji scowled at him but complied. 

A large, gold ring fell into his palm, warm from where it had rested in Reyes’ breast pocket. It was the same ring Genji had seen flash in the warm light from chandeliers back in the Garden District, a thousand years ago. Thibideaux’s ring. He saw something dark stuck in the fine grooves of the precious metal. Genji looked up in time to see Reyes carefully wrapping his knuckles in a thick bandage. 

“Killed him myself,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind but I kept the other ring. Gonna buy myself something nice with it.” He wiggled his fingers when he finished wrapping his hand and patted his pocket with a toothy grin. “Now tell me what happened,” he continued more seriously. 

Genji stared at the ring in his hand and felt himself relax for the first time. He took a deep breath and closed his fingers over the ring. He looked up at Reyes and told him everything. 

 

***

 

“Not a word to the good doctor when she wakes up. We don’t need her finding out about this and telling people who have no business knowing.” They all understood the unspoken words of ‘Don’t tell Morrison.’ Reyes glared at each of them in turn to drive the point home. Jesse nodded and lit a cigarillo. Moira hummed in agreement. Genji watched while Jesse held a lighter to the papers that held the notes Thibideaux’s men had taken during their investigations. He smirked in satisfaction while their work went up in flames.  _ Good fucking riddance Thibideaux. _

Needless to say, the UN would not like the idea of a previously unknown kill squad going in and shooting up a bunch of ‘swamp rats.’ Even if those swamp rats had shot down and mutilated Overwatch’s head of medical research because those very same swamp rats had recently given them enough money to blast their way through another omnium and then some. 

There was to be no mission debriefing, no checking in other than “Hey, we’re back and we got our people too,” and no official report filed. Just a quick check up for Genji with Moira and some sort of quiet surgery for Angela. It would be difficult without their cybernetics expert calling the shots, but Moira had been on the team for Genji’s surgeries and one arm was infinitely easier than an entire body. They would keep it quiet until they could fabricate a convincing story. The dangers of experimental technology perhaps, or maybe the age old ‘training accident’ bull shit. 

Anything would be preferable to a non-UN sanctioned kill squad butchering one of the fattest cash cows that Overwatch had ever seen. The truth would certainly put a damper on things in Geneva. It would bring about a lot of paperwork for sure, and Reyes hated paperwork.

After a quick checkup, Moira left another bioemitter resting in his lap with stern instructions not to move it for at least an hour. Her main concern was the long term effects of the cattle prod on his spinal column interface, but the rest of his systems seemed to be functioning adequately. Athena could help with a more thorough scan of his hardware and the delicate wiring that held him together when they got back to the watchpoint. 

Once Moira had announced that Angela was stable Genji could barely bring himself to leave her bedside. Moira was keeping her sedated, citing the trauma of waking up to a missing limb and he knew all too well what that was like. He had tried desperately to forget those first few moments of consciousness in Gibraltar all those months ago, and his brain was helping him along with a bit of forced selective amnesia, but he could still hear the sound of Angela screaming reverberating around his head. It was a sound that would probably haunt him for a while. No one should have to wake up missing body parts.

The rest of the team gave him some space after Reyes’ quick team meeting. He could hear them talking quietly amongst themselves around a table. Jesse and Reyes smoked like two twin chimneys and Moira had produced a deck of cards from somewhere. Moira always turned a blind eye to her teammates’ smoking, only choosing to be a physician when the opportunity allowed her to outrank someone. He smiled at his team and turned his attention back to Angela. He cradled her remaining hand delicately in his and tried to sort through all of his emotions. 

A monumental relief was first and foremost among them. Reyes, Jesse, and Moira had arrived in time to get them out just like he knew they would and he felt a swelling of something warm in his heart, something familial and not unlike a feeling he had once felt with his brother once upon a time. But when he looked at how peaceful Angela looked, sedated under the golden glow of bioemitters he felt a riot of different emotions warring for dominance in his chest. The painful realization of how fragile she was, her body not protected by a metal and ceramic carapace like his, the crushing guilt of not being able to protect her, the knowledge that she would probably smack him for thinking of her like a porcelain doll. She had been a combat medic long before she met him, running into battle to save lives just like she had saved his that fateful night when she had stumbled upon him in a gutter in Hanamura. A more dangerous emotion started to make itself known around his heart and his dragon purred in agreement. 

He wanted to see her smile again, and hear her humming along to Tchaikovsky and Beethoven. He wanted to hold her close to his chest and never let go, to take her out for a night on the town and dance regardless of the stares that followed him. The memory of her drunk dancing on him at Lena’s welcome party brought a smile to his lips. She had looked beautiful that night, looking carefree for the first time since he’d known her, dancing with the other women at the watchpoint. It would be nice to dance with Angela when both of them were sober. He wanted to cook her dinner, pour her another glass of wine while he did the dishes, and kiss her senseless in the moonlight. 

He wanted  _ her.  _

But did she want him back?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay in this update! I've had a crazy last few weeks. My sister got married, my aunt died, I got a new job, and I moved four hours away lmao but here's another chapter for you! <3
> 
> Please note: There is a scene in this chapter where Angela has a panic attack and has concerns about not being able to work as a doctor with only one arm. It is brief and she's not thinking clearly. To my understanding, people are perfectly capable of practicing medicine after losing a limb.

Angela was floating. Of that she was sure. How else could you explain the weird feeling of detachment and utter peace that emanated from the center of her chest? She was shrouded in warmth and everything seemed fuzzy and golden, like the soft down feathers of a newborn chick. The image of dozens, no hundreds of tiny, little chicks nestled quietly around her made her want to smile. But that was so much effort, that twitch of the lip that would bring the expression forward. So much effort when instead, she could just lie in the golden light and enjoy the softness around her. 

Shining scales and and soft fur entered her vision and something warm and green snuggled up close to her. It was the dragon that she had glimpsed back in Louisiana. The memory of Genji’s desperate attempt to protect her in the bayou when he was already injured as well made her heart rate speed up. The dragon hissed a few words and she relaxed again. A soft song sung in Japanese reverberated through the air and a sense of further contentment washed over her. Angela settled in for a long rest, safe and calm in the presence of the protective beast. 

“ _ Angela _ .”

No. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. That meant that they were  _ out there.  _ And  _ out there  _ was where they hurt her. She tried to go back to the euphoric feeling of peace but instead of the soft golden light everything seemed harsher all of a sudden. More artificial, less welcoming. 

“ _ Angela, can you hear me?” _

She furrowed her brow, determined to keep her eyes shut tight. Opening them meant facing what had happened to her and that meant never going back to before, when she had been whole and--

No. She wasn’t thinking about that. Ignoring the two voices above her was easier. Ignoring was something Angela was good at. She had been ignoring assistants telling her she needed to take a break for years. She could ignore the two people who were trying to rouse her easily. The dragon began to purr and she tried to settled down again.

“ _ I don’t think she wants to wake up yet.”  _

Talk about the understatement of the century. With each passing moment she felt the dreamy feeling receding as steadily as an outgoing tide and the analytical part of her mind informed her it was likely anaesthesia wearing off. Like it or not, her body was waking up. 

“There she is,” one of the voices declared in an Irish brogue. 

Moira. Of course. Moira was there because the last time she was conscious she had been missing an arm. 

The dragon disappeared and Angela rocketed back to full consciousness with a painful start. At first the only thing she could see was a bright light that faded with a few blinks to one of the many bioemitters in her medbay. A slim shape loomed over her and spoke.

“Welcome back, Dr. Ziegler.” Moira’s voice sounded strange. Angela blinked at her and tried to figure out why her colleague sounded so different. When she made a small noise in the back of her throat Moira reacted immediately. While Angela watched her read her vitals off of the screen over her bed she figured out what was wrong with Moira. 

She was worried. 

“You see? I told you she would be alright.” After a moment Angela identified the second voice as Lena. She tried to turn to face her but her muscles refused to cooperate. She made another small sound in her throat and Moira refocused her attention on her. 

“The anaesthesia is still wearing off, Angela,” Moira said softly. It was the first time Angela could remember the other woman speaking to her in such a manner. It was disconcerting to hear genuine concern and worry in her tone. “You gave us all quite a scare.” 

“You’ve lost a little weight since the last time I saw you.”

“ _ Lena! _ ” Moira’s voice cracked like a whip.

“What? Humor is the only way to deal with situations like this. How do you think I deal with the chronal accelerator?” 

Angela felt something wet roll down her cheek and closed her eyes. 

“Out. Now,” Moira ordered. When Lena tried to protest she pulled the doctor card. “My medical bay, my rules.” 

After a few moments Angela heard the door slid shut behind Lena. It was quiet in the lab again with just the soft beeps from the machines monitoring her vitals.

“How bad is it?” Angela whispered with her eyes still shut. She couldn’t bear to look at herself. Not yet. Her memories were still hazy but she knew without a doubt that if she turned to the left the sight would be markedly different from before. Mild hysteria almost made her want to laugh at Lena’s bad joke. Almost. 

She heard Moira sigh and her worst fears were confirmed when the other woman took her hand. “I won’t lie to you,” Moira began. Her touch was cool in comparison to Angela’s. “It didn’t look good when we first brought you in.The tissue had grown necrotic and they amputated to keep the sepsis from your heart. Unfortunately,” Moira trailed off.

“Don’t sugar coat it.” She could handle the prognosis. Angela was a professional. 

“Unfortunately,” Moira continued, and this time her voice was infused with enough venom to kill. “Whoever performed the operation apparently only had a rudimentary knowledge of human anatomy at best and they did more damage than had you or I performed it. There is a chance that your muscle tissue and nerve endings won’t accept a cybernetic counterpart. Bioemitters can only do so much to repair the tissue before I attempt anything else. Assuming, of course, that you want me to.” 

Of course she wanted her to. She was a doctor, a surgeon. Angela’s whole life revolved around her ability to touch and heal people. How could she do that with only one arm? The idea that she wouldn’t be able to perform her duties was unthinkable. Suddenly the darkness behind her eyes was too much. Angela opened them and glanced at where her new stump ended in clean bandages and tasted bile at the back of her throat. The machine next to her bed started beeping a warning at her increased pulse. There was a rushing sound in her ears and dimly the clinical part of her mind kindly informed her she was having a panic attack. She felt something cool slide into her arm through the IV and the rushing noise receded and she could breathe again. 

“I am going to run some tests to determine if a cybernetic marriage is possible,” Moira informed her but her voice sounded far away. 

Angela murmured a quiet, “Okay.  _ Durstig…” _ English didn’t seem possible right now. She smacked her dry lips and a straw magically appeared near them. “ _ Danke _ .”

“ _ Bitte schön _ ,” Moira whispered just as quietly. 

Angela closed her eyes and drifted off to oblivion again. The dragon wasn’t there this time. 

***

The next time she opened her eyes, Angela felt more prepared; more lucid, less panicked. It was time to deal with the situation. Only, Moira wasn’t in her field of vision. The medbay stood empty before her with not a soul in sight. At least until she turned her head and saw Genji asleep in the chair next to her bed. 

Her eyes swept over him quickly, checking him for signs of injury from head to toe, the demands of Thibideaux’s cronies echoing in her head the whole time. He was dressed in his sweats again with the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up and his hair was still damp from a recent shower. There were a few scratches on his flesh arm and something that looked suspiciously like a burn mark, but when nothing more extreme was evident she relaxed. They both made it out,  _ Gott sei Dank _ . She took her time looking over him, at the dark bags under his and the frown pulling down his lips. There was a crease in his forehead that she wanted to smooth over but lifting her arm took a little more energy than she had to spend so she settled for just watching and waiting for him to wake up. 

She didn’t have to wait long. No sooner had she nestled back into her pillows than Genji began to stir. 

“ _ Guten Morgen _ ,” she said softly when he opened his eyes. He blinked owlishly at her before yawning wide enough to crack his jaw. He settled back in his chair before sitting up straight and leaning forward quickly, like his mind was having trouble keeping up with what he saw. 

“Angela!” he said, relief coloring his voice. “You’re awake.” 

She smiled softly at him. “Yes, I’m awake.”

Angela saw his eyes dart quickly to her bandages before moving away. He hung his head. “This is my fault.” 

She stared at him. “Genji, I don’t--”

He cut her off. “I couldn’t protect you.” He crossed his arms over his chest and folded in on himself. “I couldn’t stop them.” 

This again. She vaguely remembered their conversation in the bayou where Genji was convinced they were shot down because he wasn’t a good enough pilot to stop it from happening. Then, just as now she was irritated. How stubborn do you have to be to assume responsibility for someone shooting an omnic programmed to murder them and bring them down out of the sky? He was being ridiculous and she told him so. 

“You did everything you could. And I mean everything.” When he still avoided her eye she said, “Genji, look at me.” Brown eyes met blue. She could see guilt swirling behind his carefully blank expression. “Does it only come when you call it?”

Genji swallowed but didn’t comment. 

“It was here with me,” Angela continued, remembering the soft fur of the dragon. “Before I woke up the first time. There was a dragon in my dream with me. It was green. Just like the one you called in Louisiana.”

Surprisingly, Angela watched the tips of Genji’s ears turn pink. He looked away in embarrassment. 

“She shouldn’t have done so,” he muttered. His blush darkened. “Not without permission.”

Angela blinked at him. “She?” For some reason the confirmation that the dragon in her dream was real wasn’t as strange as it should have been. Overwatch had many members who possessed abilities that, on occasion, defied belief, but the free admission that Genji had a companion who was some sort of spiritual dragon was just one more oddity amongst many. One of their administrators was a talking gorilla for goodness sake, a dragon practically made sense. 

“Only a Shimada can control the dragons,” Genji said by way of explanation. It sounded like he was repeating a mantra. “She should not have come with me after my...confrontation with my brother. But she didn’t want to be parted from me.” 

“Oh,” Angela said eloquently. “Well she was quite kind to me. Does she have a name?” 

Genji’s blush darkened again. “Before I tell you, you should know that a Shimada first meets their guardian when they are very small and I was enamored with American culture at the time and just starting to learn English.”

Angela felt her lips twitch up in a small smile. “What’s her name, Genji?” she asked again. 

“Green,” he said with his eyes closed. His accent made it into two syllables. 

“Green?” she repeated back to him with a delighted laugh. 

“Yes.” 

Angela laughed again, happiness at the image of a young Genji toddling around shouting the color at his newfound guardian bubbled up in her chest. “Well tell Green that I appreciated her company and I have no objection if she wants to visit again.”

Genji stiffened in his chair but she couldn’t tell if it was from her laughter or not. “Be careful what you wish for, Angela.” 

She cocked her head to the side. “Why do you say that?” 

He looked at her now and Angela found herself pinned down by the intensity of his gaze. “Our guardians protect not only those of the Shimada clan, but also those they hold dear.”

When she didn’t immediately respond, silence fell heavy and weighted between the two of them. 

“I see,” she said at last even though she didn’t, not really. Did Genji just tell her, easy as that, that he felt something for her? Because if that was the case then she definitely needed to tell him that he wasn’t alone in those feelings, that she felt them too. She wanted to say that she loved to hear him laugh, enjoyed spending time with him, and wanted very much to go on an actual vacation with him, not just a mission, that involved more than just hand holding. The image of how good he looked in a tuxedo flashed through her mind again and she found herself wondering if he would look just as good with it on the floor. The monitor next to her started to announce its displeasure at her increased heart rate again. 

“Genji, I--” she began.

“I’m afraid that visiting hours are currently over,” Moira announced as she swept back into the medbay, forestalling any further conversation. It wasn’t until Genji leaned quickly backward in his chair that Angela realised how close their faces had become. “I have a few more tests to run and then we can start to prep you for surgery, Angela.” The other doctor showed no indication that she knew what she had just interrupted, but Angela thought she detected a hint of smugness in her tone. 

“Things look good enough to attempt a cybernetic attachment?” Angela asked, putting her thoughts about Genji on the back burner. 

Moira nodded. “I have the team on standby. We’re ready to begin when you feel comfortable.” She heard a sharp intake of breath next to her. 

Angela reached her good hand out with no small effort and Genji took it gently. She squeezed his hand but looked at Moira and said, “I’m ready.” 

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Genji promised her. 

“And then we can talk,” said Angela. 

“And then we’ll talk,” he agreed. “Green might keep you company, if you’ll have her.” 

Angela smiled. “I think I would like that very much.” Genji smiled back at her.

“If you’re both quite finished,” drawled Moira from the other side of the biobed. Genji looked embarrassed again and quickly dropped her hand. He inclined his head in a crisp bow to Moira and practically fled from the medbay.

“Do you enjoy your ability to scare people?” Angela wanted to know.

Moira’s lips twitched up into a smile. “More than you know.” 

Angela took a deep breath. “Let’s get started, shall we, Doctor?” 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who left such kind notes after the last chapter, this one is for you! I got so inspired to write that I got right to work on this installment.

Genji frowned down into the steaming liquid before him and tried to remember what he was supposed to do next. Let it sit? Stir? Add cream or sugar? Maybe both? The concept of making Angela a cup of tea after her surgery was much simpler in his imagination than in reality. Truth be told, he doubted that Moira would let her drink anything so soon after such an intense procedure, but he couldn’t arrive empty handed to Angela’s bedside. A cup of tea would have to do in lieu of an actual gift. 

He wrinkled his nose and watched as the steam formed delicate shapes in the air. Hanzo had always been better at this. Genji could just imagine the look on his face if he saw the mess he had made in the kitchen trying to brew a simple cup of tea. He thought of his brother’s arched eyebrow and the next thing he knew there was a pile of broken china on the floor. Scalding hot water dripped between his cybernetic fingers and the sensors imbedded in the circuitry provided the sensation of a burn. His heart thumped so erratically in his chest that for a terrifying moment he thought he was having a heart attack. The lights in the kitchen seemed over bright, shining down on him like a spotlight. Genji gripped the counter with both hands and willed himself to shove the fear and anger deep down, to where there only darkness resided. 

Thinking about his brother had been idiotic. Hanzo wanted him dead, had already tried to kill him once and likely thought he had succeeded otherwise there would have been more attempts on his life. He had joined Blackwatch because it was the only way he could apply his skillset. That, and it was a guarantee that he could help people but also that his identity would stay hidden. 

So Hanzo couldn’t find him again. 

A loud  _ crack  _ sounded through the quiet kitchen and Genji looked up in surprise. A series of spiderweb cracks spread from where his cybernetic fingers gripped the edge of the counter and reached out towards the backsplash. He swore and quickly removed his hands. They shook when he held them in front of his face. 

Angela had an arm like his now. 

With a strangled sob he crouched down to start picking up the broken china but ended up slouching against the kitchen cabinets and sliding to the floor. It was all too much. His feelings for Angela were knotted up in a complicated mix of desire and fear. A desire for more and the fear that the consequences would outweigh everything else. She was his doctor, his savior. Of course he had become attached, but was it love or something less wholesome, and more destructive? A relationship with him would become toxic for her, how could it not be? It would jeopardize her career to be together with one of her patients. If they were in the field he needed to be focused on his mission, not worried about what Angela was up to. And vice versa.  There were some boundaries that should not be crossed. And yet...she had welcomed Green into her consciousness before she even knew what it meant. 

And the only reason he was here, was because his brother was under the impression that he was dead. Murdered. He shouldn’t be falling in love with pretty surgeons who stitch people back together. Not when he could be out there looking for Hanzo. 

Shouldn’t he? 

How had he ended up here? How had this become his life? He closed his eyes and let the memories flood in. His final confrontation with Hanzo, the feeling of being ripped open by his brother’s dragons, laying there in the gutter, waiting to die. Green’s refusal to allow him to do so. And then Angela, appearing out of the dark. 

She had almost been lost to him forever, thanks to Thibideaux’s selfishness and Genji’s own inability to fight off their captors. He knew that if she had died, the future would have had nothing but darkness and loneliness in store for him.  It wasn’t healthy and yet here he was, in love with the woman who had quite literally pulled him from the gutter.

“Genji!” 

Jesse was crouching down across from him and, by the tone of his voice, it wasn’t the first time he’d said his name. Genji blinked at him. 

“You alright there, partner?” Jesse frowned in concern. 

“I’m fine.” He was impressed with how normal his voice sounded. There was only the slightest tremor to reveal the internal mess he was wrestling with. Unfortunately, Jesse noticed it immediately. 

The cowboy’s frown deepened. “Is that why you’re sitting on the floor?” 

Genji channeled some of his anxiety into a glare but Jesse just sighed and shifted to sit on the floor next to him, spurs jingling softly. He let his head fall against the cabinet with a small thump and looked for all the world like he was settling in to wait for several hours if Genji didn’t start talking  _ now _ . Still, years of living at Shimada Castle made Genji stay silent. 

“I heard the good doctor woke up a while ago,” Jesse said after several awkward minutes. 

“I know.”

“I also heard that the surgery went well and there were no complications,” Jesse continued. “Everything’s working--what’s that word Moira loves to use all the time? Oh yeah, ‘nominal.’ Everything’s working nominally.” 

Genji saw Jesse turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye, but he still refused to speak. He and Jesse talked about crazy ways they had killed someone, or had almost been killed themselves. They talked about movies and drank together. Sometimes got so drunk they fell asleep on the floor of Jesse’s room together. But they never talked about things that  _ really  _ mattered. No one in Blackwatch did. There was always the nagging feeling that any one of them would tell Reyes and he would use it as leverage against them when the situation called for it. 

“It also sounds like the good doctor is sweet on you,” his friend continued. Genji couldn’t quite see his smirk but it was evident from his voice. “You were the first person she started asking for after she woke up.”

Genji blurted out, “Really?” before he could control himself and turned to look at Jesse. His answering grin was as smug as a cat in cream. 

“Really,” Jesse confirmed. He stopped Genji from standing up with a firm grip on his elbow. “Before you go make passionate love with the doctor who has just gotten out of surgery, do you mind telling me what happened here?” He gestured at the broken china and spilled tea and lifted an eyebrow. 

“Not particularly,” Genji grit out. Embarrassment was rapidly replacing his other emotions. Any minute now, he was certain that Jesse would threaten to wrestle him until he explained himself. In the end, Jesse surprised him by sighing heavily and taking out his little tin of tobacco. He began the methodical process of rolling up a new cigarillo and made a show of being relaxed and at ease with waiting for as long as Genji needed him to. 

Genji felt a sudden wave of affection for his friend that took the wind out of his rather panicked sails and tried to sort out his thoughts in a way that someone else would be able to understand. He began with the easiest part. 

“I should be dead.”

Jesse hummed. “You and me both, partner.” 

“No, my brother,” his voice cracked on the word. He tried again. “The only reason why I’m alive today is that my brother failed in his role as kumichō. That and the Shimadas were never meant to fight themselves. And Angela found me.” Jesse made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat that could have been interest or he could have just been clearing his throat. Genji took a deep breath and plowed on. “I didn’t want to be saved. I wanted to die in that gutter, but I knew I couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. And then Angela just swooped in and brought me back from the brink. Of course I care about her. But what if I’ve just imprinted on her like a fucking duckling or some shit? Isn’t that a thing? You automatically love the thing that saved you, regardless of the circumstances because now you have a second chance at life?” 

He knew he was rambling now, but he couldn’t stop. It felt like the floodgates had finally opened and the words wouldn’t stop pouring out of him. Beside him, Jesse stared into the distance and lit his cigarillo, let him continue. “So what if I don’t actually love her? What if it’s just her taking pity on me because of how we met? Me, some poor broken thing trying to die in the street and her, this incredible, talented, smart, beautiful person who can see through the murky water of life and death and coax life back to the surface?”  

 Genji looked down at his hands again, one flesh, the other cybernetic. Angela had held his hand. She thought she knew who he was because she had taken all of his pieces and put him back together again. She bought him a Hawaiian shirt and called him cute, kissed him in the grip of a fever while floating in the bayou. But she didn’t know who he was before he joined Overwatch. She didn’t know about the things he had done for the Shimada-gumi. For his own family. If she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to stand touching him again, let alone be in the same room with him. Not to mention how often he thought of just trying to end it all in the early days after his surgeries. But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to destroy all of the hard work and effort that had gone into the technology that worked day and night to keep him alive and mobile. 

Jesse puffed on his cigarillo next to him quietly and he didn’t seem to care about the things he had done. But that was because Jesse was a killer, just like him. Angela was a healer. His job was to take people apart in the very literal sense, hers to put them back together. Complete and total opposites, black and white. 

But he loved her, he knew that now. This weird mix of emotions swirling just under his sternum was love. And that equal parts excited and scared the hell out of him. He sat there in the quiet kitchen with his friend smoking like a chimney and contemplated the enormity of the situation. Shimadas didn’t get love. They got fear, they got respect, but never love. But was he even a Shimada anymore? He heard Green shift and grumble a, “Yes, of course you are. I’m still here,” but his brother begged to differ. Hence the dismemberment and the attempted murder. 

“Do you want to know what I think?” Jesse said, breaking the silence. He didn’t immediately speak when Genji nodded, but took another puff. “I think that you should just go for it.”

“Go for it?” he said doubtfully. 

“Go for it,” Jesse confirmed. “But,” he turned to look at Genji and his face was serious. “Don’t mention a word of the shit you used to get up to with the Shimada-gumi. Not everyone is so forgiving of that kind of shit, not in the way Reyes is. Angela may have been a battlefield medic back during the Crisis but that was out of necessity. She won’t get gang life. Only people who have been in one get gang life, the decisions you have to make so you don’t end up in a gutter.” 

Genji flinched at his choice of words and his friend swore. “Sorry, Genji. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. I think you’re right. It’s why I was recruited for Blackwatch.”

“But you should enjoy it while you can,” Jesse brandished the cigarillo at him. “You never know if you’ll come back from all of the missions Reyes sends us out on.”

He was right. Hell, if Angela knew about half of the shit Blackwatch stuck their noses in she would be marching straight down to Strike Commander Morrison’s office and demand he shut down the whole program. She could never know what they got up to, could never know what he had done in the past. Angela could never know about the side of him that relished the opportunity to expand his very specific skill set each and every time he went out on a Blackwatch mission. 

A soft chime broke through their silence. “My apologies agents,” Athena’s voice said softly above them. “But I am afraid that smoking indoors is against protocol. You may refer to your agent handbook to review the rules and regulations, Agent McCree.” The AI’s tone strongly suggested it wasn’t the first time she had informed the cowboy of this regulation. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jesse scowled and ground his cigarillo into the sole of his boot. “Well I guess that’s my cue to go.” He climbed to his feet. “Give my regards to the doctor. I’ll be by later to visit her I expect.” 

“Wait,” Genji said, getting to his feet as well. “Can you help me clean this up?” He gestured at the broken bits of china still literally the ground. 

“Nope,” Jesse said cheerfully and exited the kitchen. 

Genji sighed. Still, he felt remarkably more centered after his discussion with Jesse and when he bent to begin picking up the scattered shards of china, he couldn’t help but feel that he was also scooping together bits of his own peace of mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Genji :( I hope things didn't come off too rambling in this chapter! After I wrote it I felt so emotionally drained I took a nap!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! I survived the holidays and I hope y'all did too! Okay so just a few things before you read this chapter 
> 
> 1) As always thank you all so much for the support! I really love this story and I'm so happy that so many of you are in love with it too. You have no idea how good all of your comments make me feel and really spur me further to write more. 
> 
> 2) I thought I was close to ending this fic and I think I may have mentioned it before too...unfortunately (or maybe fortunately lmao) my sister gave me an idea and now this thing is really going to be in for the long haul so I hope y'all are ready!!

It started as a slight, almost pleasant tingling sensation that then heightened into an intense, intruding pain. She hissed out a curse and started to carefully and ever so slowly uncurl her new fingers one by one. 

“Is it supposed to be so uncomfortable?” Angela asked.

“I’m not sure,” Moira responded, which was fair enough. After all, how was Moira supposed to know how a brand new cybernetic implant felt? “Perhaps you should ask Agent Shimada, as he is the only other agent we have who is currently in possession of cybernetic limbs.”

“I haven’t seen Genji since I woke up.” She was fully aware of how petulant and ridiculous she sounded, like a child who has missed out on dessert. The comparison between Genji and dessert made her briefly picture doing wonderful things to him with whipped cream. Her mouth grew dry and she hoped that this wouldn’t be one of the times Moira displayed her uncanny ability to read minds. To try and dispel the image of the kind of face Genji would make when she licked whipped cream off of him, Angela hunkered down further into her pillows and practised crossing her arms over her chest. There was still a lot of pain where the flesh met with metal, but all signs pointed to the surgery going well. She had never been so happy to have Moira in her medbay. The thought of having to undergo that surgery with someone who hadn’t been instrumental in Genji’s own intensive procedure was nauseating to say the least. 

New thoughts of Genji drew her gaze away from her shoulder to the teacup sitting on her small bedside table. She had woken up to find a cold cup of tea that Genji had ostensibly left for her, but he hadn’t been back since. Angela had yelled at Moira the first time she had tried to throw the cold tea down the drain. 

“I think I said something that scared him off. I just wish I knew what it was. You heard us, Moira. What do you think it was?”

Moira looked like she had swallowed a lemon. 

“Please, Moira. I know that this isn’t really your area of expertise, but just tell me what you think.” She knew that if Moira could be persuaded, she would tell the truth. It was the way the other woman’s personality worked. Dr. Moira O’Dearain could always be counted on to tell the blistering truth, particularly when it would make someone uncomfortable and give her a gratifying sense of superiority. Angela had no doubt that Moira’s opinion on this would leave a mark. But if she said it, she would be speaking the truth into existence where it would be left to trickle through the air and eventually float down to the people who matter most. Mainly herself and Genji. 

“I think it likely,” Moira began carefully, like she was examining each word and finding them to be personally offensive. “That Agent Shimada finds his...high regard for you troubling and difficult to process. Although,” this time her tone retained more of her typical flirtation in it, even if it only sounded half sincere. “If he realized all it took was a wink and a cold cup of tea to seduce you, I think he could have saved you both quite a lot of trouble.” 

Angela flushed. “I do not think that ‘all it takes’ is a wink and a cup of tea.” 

“Oh that reminds me. Before you go and sit down with our dear Strike Commander for a debrief, is there anything you would like to share with the class? Perhaps about what the two of you got up to in that lavish hotel room of yours?” Moira positively purred the last bit at her and Angela wished very much that she could reach up and slap her for it. Moira seemed to read her mind and a slow grin spread across her face. “No, I figured as much. Doctor Angela Ziegler is too pure to do anything  _ untoward  _ during a mission.” 

Well, Moira had her backed into a corner with that observation. If she insisted that she wasn’t so lily-white it would be confirmation of something that hadn’t even happened between herself and Genji, but if she denied it, Moira would have her jab proved. Instead of responding, Angela opted for the third option of scowling at the other woman even though she was fully aware of how juvenile it made her appear. 

Moira smirked at her lack of response. “Oh, how the world has missed out on such interesting gossip!” 

Months of holding her tongue finally got the better of her. “You know what, Moira? One of these days someone is going to come along and then you’ll be a total mess about it too. Then you’ll regret all those times you’ve teased me and I won’t give you any help either.” 

“Indeed,” Moira said dryly. A carefully manicured eyebrow crept up like usual when she used that tone, but there was also something melancholic about her single word response. In a flash it was gone though, replaced by another smile. “Well I don’t have time to discuss your lack of love life, darling. I have an appointment with Commander Reyes so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.” She strode across the room and began opening various drawers and cabinets, bringing things down. 

“Is there something the matter with Gabriel?” she asked in concern. 

“Not at all,” came the response as Moira began packing up a bag with enough equipment to give an entire squad a thorough check up. 

Maybe she was still unsettled from her injury and paranoia was starting to manifest itself. It was a common symptom of post traumatic stress, afterall. But something about the way Moira answered so flippantly unsettled her. A faint sense of unease tickled the back of her neck as recollection of argument after argument with the other doctor over ethical practices came to the forefront of her mind. “Moira,” she began carefully. “If this is a matter of research--”

Moira cut her off. “Don’t be so dramatic.” She turned her back and continued to pack away her equipment. 

“As the head of medical research I have a right to know about the experiments going on in my medical bay!” 

“But you’re not the head of medical research right now, are you? You’re my patient, for the next few days at least, and until such time as you can wiggle your new fingers without any pain you will continue to be so. So please, relax,” she punctuated the word by stuffing a large glass cylinder into her bag as well, “and focus on your recovery.” She zipped the bag closed to emphasize her point. 

Furious, Angela started to argue. “If you’ve been using my time away to conduct unauthorized experimentation on the members of Overwatch I have every right to know!” 

With an exaggerated sigh, Moira finally turned to face her. “If you must know, Commander Reyes is currently having difficulties stemming from his SEP treatments. He asked me to go to his office to save him the trip here, to the medbay, where people could witness his discomfort.”

Angela studied her face, trying to determine if she was telling the truth or not. Some of the items Moira had packed away could conceivably be used to help treat a super soldier suffering from withdrawals or dealing with painful muscle tears. And besides, Moira always told the truth. With a monumental effort, she shoved down her reservations and sighed. “Well...please let him know that I hope it passes and he feels better soon.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “I’ll be sure to pass along the sentiment. Now,” she crossed the room again until she was just beside Angela’s bed. “I’m sure you’re still in pain.” She was right. Angela had pushed it to the back of her mind but with Moira’s comment it became one of the only things she could focus on. It felt like she could feel each individual prick that bonded her to the new metal appendage. “I’m going to give you another dose to take the edge off so you can sleep.” 

Angela felt the cool sensation move up her arm from where the IV was threaded into her wrist. Almost instantly she grew tired and completely forgot to feel suspicious of Moira when she woke up again. 

***

The next time she opened her eyes the med bay was empty and the lights had been set to the dimmest setting. There was a slight chill in the air and she shuddered in her thin hospital gown. Her apartment was close enough that she could probably hobble her way over to it to grab a pair of pajama pants and be back in bed before anyone was the wiser. The drive to be wrapped up in soft fleece instead of scratchy hospital blankets was so strong that every second she wasn’t already in her pajamas felt like an eternity. Angela gave herself a quick pep talk about how she should expect to have her balance a little off the first time she tried to walk and to prepare accordingly. Sitting up away from the pillows still caused pain to well up in her shoulder but it was already lessened compared to where it had been earlier in the day. The wonders of biotic fields and nanotechnology. She turned to the side and the sight that greeted her made her forget all thoughts of comfortable pajama pants.

Genji sat slumped in the chair at her side, mouth slightly open and arms crossed loosely over his chest. Angela felt her heart swell when she thought about how he had been sitting there long enough to fall asleep. Tenderly, so as not to wake him up, she reached over to take his hand. The metal was slightly warm to the touch, with the gentle thrum of technology humming just below the surface. She brushed her thumb across his knuckles and enjoyed the opportunity to just look at him.

He looked very pale in the dim light. The light from the medical equipment made his cheekbones stand out strongly and accentuated the curve of his neck. His sweatshirt had ridden up just a little bit and she could see the curve of his hip bone. Angela decided that she very much wanted to know what it would feel like to grip tight to that hip bone while kissing him thoroughly but she also didn’t want to wake him up. Feeling like a complete pervert, Angela scolded herself and resumed studying his face. Genji had pronounced bags under his eyes, testament to the strain that both of them had been under and he scowled in his sleep. She wondered when the last time he had slept in a comfortable place was. Probably back in their rooms in the Garden District. Maybe they could go back there, just the two of them again and enjoy a real vacation as...as what? Lovers? A couple? Just friends? After the revelations about Green she had a pretty good idea of how Genji felt about her. But she didn’t want just the fleeting image, she wanted the entire picture of his feelings. She wanted to hold it close to her chest and nurture it like something precious, and at the same time she wanted to stand on rooftops and show it off to the world, loudly proclaiming  _ he is mine and I am his _ . 

But first he needed to sleep. Genji shifted in the chair and murmured something too quiet for her to hear. Angela decided that her need for comfortable clothes and loud declarations of love came secondary to her need to just lay back in the dim light and continue stroking her thumb over Genji’s hand. Everything else could wait. 

***

Naturally, when the morning made its appearance and Athena returned the lights to their daytime setting Angela was alone in the med bay again. The chair that Genji had slept in stood in its original place, slightly off to the side and no longer close enough for someone to reach for in the night. To all appearances, the night before could have been just a late night hallucination. She frowned at this development. 

_ To hell with laying around in bed all day again _ , Angela thought mutinously. Fully aware that doctors make the worst patients, she carefully swung her legs over the side of her bed just as she had the night before. She still wasn’t fully prepared for the disorienting feeling of standing when one side felt significantly  _ different  _ than the other, but all in all she was rather proud of the way she managed to toddle her way into her apartment. The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss and she took a second to stand there in her little entryway, leaning most of her weight against the door and revel in being alive. Yes, she had been changed, both physically and mentally. She fully expected the need to talk through her torture with a clinical psychologist at some point in the future, but she was alive and had not died of sepsis somewhere in the black water of the Louisiana bayou. Yes, she now had a cybernetic arm, a testament to modern medicine and how nanotech can have life alternating results, and she would need to grow accustomed to the over all strange newness of an artificial limb, but again, she was alive; that was the most important thing. Her heart still beat in her chest, a reliable little organ still dedicated to its singular mission to pump blood through her veins, her lungs still filled with air when she breathed in, and she could still feel the cold air brush against her legs. 

Pulling herself out of her dramatic reassurance that she was still alive, Angela made her way carefully into her bedroom and rifled through her drawers until she unearthed a pair of soft, fleece pajama pants that Mei had given her a few years ago in addition to the fluffy pink bathrobe which she also pulled on. There was a tense moment where her new arm got caught on the material but she was eventually successful in wrapping herself up in material infinitely more comfortable than the hospital gown. She made a mental note to talk to the requisitions officer about finding attire more suitable for recovering patients than the thin, paperlike hospital gowns. 

Her apartment was exactly how she had left it, still meticulously clean and barely lived in after all of the hours she spent working in the medbay. Her communicator sat in the center of her kitchen table, like someone had positioned it just so. Angela slipped it into her pocket. Everything else was the same and yet it felt so strange to be standing there in the center of it like it was just a normal...wait. She didn’t even know what day it was anymore. 

“Athena,” she called out the AI. “What day is it?” 

“Today is Saturday, Doctor Ziegler.”

“I see, thank you.” 

“You are very welcome, Doctor Ziegler.” 

The need to see Genji, to talk to him suddenly became too much to bare on her own. There were important things that needed to be said and she was tired of waiting. “Athena, where is Agent Shimada?” 

“Agent Shimada is not at the Watchpoint.”

Angela blinked. “What? But I saw him! Just a few hours ago.”

“Agent Shimada is not at the Watchpoint,” Athena repeated in the same cool tone. 

“Well, where did he go?”

“My apologies, Doctor Ziegler but the answer to that question goes against my programming.” 

The AI’s words sent a chill down her spine. Her answer meant that Genji was most likely away on a Blackwatch mission, and so soon after this last disastrous mission. It was dangerously irresponsible to send an agent back out on a mission after the previous one had ended with injuries. He hadn’t seemed like himself during the brief conversation they had before her surgery. There was something bothering him and she wanted to find out what it was. Surely he couldn’t be that embarrassed about Green? Or maybe he was having second thoughts even though they hadn’t even gotten the chance to properly discuss anything. 

Her comm chose that time to chirp at her, the bright noise cutting through her rapidly spiraling thoughts.  _ Get a grip, Angela _ , she thought furiously. One glance at the screen told her that her short convalescent period was over. Strike Commander Morrison wanted to see her.  

***

“I need you to tell me everything you remember, Doctor Ziegler,” Jack said again, this time with far less patience. 

“I told you everything already,” she snapped back. A headache had started to bloom just behind her right eye and it was taking everything in her power not to reach across the table and smack him with her new ultra strong, metal hand. She was certain that the repercussions would be well worth the satisfaction.  “We got shot down and I almost died in that swamp. I got a nice souvenir out of it too.” She brandished her arm to make a point. 

Across the table from her Jack crossed his arms over his broad chest and frowned at her. “Nothing else?” 

“No.”

“What about when Reyes showed up? Was there anything odd about what his people did?” His voice sounded slightly strangled now, like he was desperate for a specific answer from her. But Angela had no idea what it could be. 

She closed her eyes and tried to remember. The memories of the rumble from the explosions came easily and so did the smell of smoke and sickening scent of blood. She recalled Jesse being the one to pick her up off of the table because Genji...Genji had taken one look at what they had done to her and launched himself down the corridor. The screams that had filtered their way back to her and Jesse had made it pretty obvious what he had done to everyone out there. She opened her eyes and told Jack as much. 

“Okay that’s consistent with the other reports. But do you remember what O’Deorain or Reyes were doing while McCree and Shimada were securing your escape?” 

Everything was pretty hazy after Jesse had scooped her up off of the table because every time he had moved the pain in her shoulder had made her see white. “I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes again. “I think I was going in and out. But I think Doctor O’Deorain found and destroyed the notes they took on Gen--Agent Shimada.” 

“Are you sure about that?” he asked sharply. 

When she opened her eyes again Jack stood up and began pacing around the small room. The screens on the wall behind him flickered through the news feeds and the constantly changing light made him look ethereal, an anguished angel afraid of the fall.   

“What?” The tone of the debriefing had shifted, and the sudden tension had Angela leaning forward in her seat. 

He glared at her for a second longer before sighing loudly. She watched his whole expression crumble until he wasn’t Strike Commander Morrison anymore. When he spoke again he was her friend Jack and he sounded scared. He reached across the table and shut off the recording device before saying “Something isn’t adding up, Angela. Something’s wrong.” 

The little hint of dread that she had been ignoring since her discussion with Moira in the medbay came creeping back, taking root at the base of her skull. “Surely it’s nothing, Jack.” She said, trying to sound confident. They shared a look and the dread spread a little further. 

“You would tell me if you had noticed something was off, right?” he asked, clearly desperate. “I know you have to uphold doctor-patient confidentiality but some things are more important.”

Unsure how to respond, Angela asked, “Just what do you think has been happening?” 

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s the thing, Angela. I don’t  _ know _ .” He threw himself back into his chair across the table from her. “But I know, I  _ know  _ that Gabe is hiding something from me. And it’s not the good kind of ‘hiding something.’ This is the illegal kind of hiding something. We both know that Blackwatch isn’t exactly sanctioned by the UN…” he trailed off rather hopelessly. “I know that Gabe isn’t telling me everything.” 

She chewed on her lower lip. “I think…” she fell silent, momentarily unsure how to continue. If she told Jack her suspicions about what Moira was up to, it didn’t necessarily constitute breaking doctor-patient confidentiality. But if Gabriel was keeping it a secret from Jack maybe he just didn’t want to worry him about the amount of pain he was in from their SEP days. Or maybe he was keeping it a secret for other reasons. In the end, she told Jack about her conversation with Moira and the overall feeling she had that the other doctor was up to something.

Jack’s frown became more pronounced. “I know that the two of you haven’t really gotten along from the start--”

“Jack,” she interrupted him. “You asked me if I knew about anything strange going on. And now that I’ve just told you, you’re going to say that it’s because Doctor O’Deorain and I have never worked well together?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Jack put his head in his hands. Angela felt sorry for him. It couldn’t be easy suspecting someone you cared so deeply about was running around...doing what exactly? They still didn’t really know. “I think,” Jack started to say, but cut himself off with another long sigh. “I think that Gabriel is definitely up to something. And he’s dragging the rest of them down with him. I know that you and Agent Shimada are close. Has he said anything to you? Anything at all that would help point us in the right direction?”

“No, of course not,” she said automatically. But was that really the truth?

“Angela, please.” 

Even though it made her feel slightly sick, Angela studied the table and thought back through all of her previous interactions with Genji. Each time she had reached out for him, it felt like he had recoiled further into himself at first, but surely that was just because he was dealing with a lot of personal issues. Recently he had been more receptive to her. But maybe there was more to that reluctance than just his past? What if there was someone else, whispering in his ear and telling him that he didn’t deserve happiness? The thought sent a knife through her heart. 

She glanced up, prepared to tell Jack that no, she didn’t think that Genji was hiding anything from her, but something flashed on one of the screens behind him that made her stop, mouth hanging open. “ _ Mein Gott _ ,” she breathed as the other screens switched, one by one to the same footage, the same message scrolling along on the bottom of the screen. A few of them were in different languages but the message was all the same. 

‘Overwatch Attack.’ 

“Jack,” she said quietly and pointed at the screens behind him. He swung around in his seat and she saw his shoulders drop, like the very weight of the world had just settled itself there, immeasurably heavy and crippling. 

And then one of the screens enhanced one of the shots until they could see four distinct figures running through the streets somewhere in the world. One carried two heavy shotguns, one had a strange looking pack on their back, one moved faster than the others, and one, ridiculously, had a cowboy hat perched on his head. 

‘UNCOMFIRMED OVERWATCH ASSASSINS FLEE THROUGH THE STREETS OF RIALTO’ scrolled by in English on two of the screens. 

“Oh, Jack,” Angela said softly. She reached across the table and placed one of her hands over his. “Oh, Jack. You were right.” 

The two of them fell silent and watched as gradually, one by one, each screen shifted its message until they all announced the same thing in half a dozen languages. 

‘OVERWATCH KILL SQUAD.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, everything changes and Retribution comes into play! Mwahaha! Anyway, thanks for reading and sticking with me! I promise eventually there is going to be a happy ending to this thing and Angela and Genji are actually going to end up speaking face to face about their feelings. I swear. It's coming. Eventually.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, this chapter contains the long awaited and promised smut! It's also a much longer chapter than usual. I think I'm going to try and make this more of the standard length instead of such short chapters.

Genji could feel Jesse seething on the couch next to him. His friend had never been able to completely hide his emotions from him and besides, his fury was so potent that you could practically boil a pot of noodles from the intensity of it. For his part, Genji was just numb and exhausted. And disappointed. Overwatch was supposed to have been a force of good and here he was, hiding out after a mission gone wrong, just another assassination and once again he was covered in blood. Most of it wasn’t his own. If he had wanted more of this shit he would have just stayed with the fucking Shimada-gumi and given his soul up as a lost cause entirely. 

This last mission was one too many. Reyes had played his hand and now he could really see him and what his motives were. The man loved killing, the thrill of taking the life put a glint in his eye like nothing else could and he had hand picked a squad that enjoyed the same thing. Or, in the case of himself and Jesse, Reyes had selected a team of people who had nothing else to lose. Genji had no idea what the fuck O’Deorain’s deal was, but she got the same look that Reyes did when they had to fight their way out of a corner, or most recently when they ended up in live firefight through civilian streets. 

Jesse periodically swore and puffed on so many cigarillos that the air became thick with smoke. Not that Genji really noticed or cared. All he could think about was the deep, dark hole that seemed to have opened up in the vicinity of where his stomach usually sat. It felt enormous, deep as a mine shaft, and nothing but the reek of guilt and hatred wafted out of it. Claws of self-loathing gripped his heart as he tried to process what he had pledged himself to by agreeing to follow Reyes, by falling for the shiny stories of redemption and the ever elusive ‘fresh start.’ He didn’t even have the mental faculties to be embarrassed by the way his eyes prickled with tears.

_ Let them come _ , he thought miserably.  _ They can wash away some of this blood but the stains will stay forever.  _

He felt Green grumble in his heart but he ignored her. He didn’t deserve her consolation. He only knew one person who could really give him what he deserved. And he was the one cooking dinner in the kitchen. After their shootout with Talon forces in the streets of Venice they were lying low at a safe house in Padua, far enough away to be out of the hot zone, but close enough to keep an eye of the investigation while they waited for the smoke to clear out a bit.  

“Oh shit, Genji. Why didn’t you say anything?” Jesse’s voice briefly brought him out of his thoughts. His friend started cleaning the chest wound that Genji had been ignoring. 

“It is superficial,” he said and tried to wave Jesse off. He didn’t deserve his help either. 

“Horse shit. And you stop thinking about whatever it is you’re thinking about.” Jesse leaned forward until he was up in Genji’s personal space. “I can tell by the look in your eyes. Don’t you go falling apart on me, Shimada. We’re in this together, you and I, you hear?” Jesse sounded almost desperate now. Genji knew that some part of him should worry about that but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. While Jesse applied the field dressing Genji kept seeing Reyes pulling the trigger at point blank range, like a video stuck on repeat. He saw the way the blood had blossomed out of the back of Antonio’s head along with soft pink brain matter and flecks of bone, watched the way his body arched through the window in an almost perfect curve before landing on the stones beneath his office, spilling the precious contents of his body cavity in every direction. Sometimes he saw it as quick as it had happened in reality, and then the next rendition would be in slow motion, the characters involved suspended in time like insects in amber, helpless to stop Reyes from blowing Antonio’s brains out. 

Sharp pain brought him back to the present. Jesse glared at him from beneath the brim of his hat and he dug his finger into Genji’s wound a second time. Genji hissed. “Good, do I have your attention now?” Jesse growled at him. 

Genji just leveled a gaze back at him, incapable of responding. 

“Look,” Jesse said, frustration creeping in along with the desperation in his voice. He spoke in a harsh whisper, puffs of air brushing Genji’s face, gentle as a lover’s touch. “If we’re not careful we could get blamed for all of this. We gotta ditch when we get back. Can you do that with me?” His voice broke on the last word. 

Distantly, Genji knew that he should feel...something other than this crushing sense of...what? Defeat? Guilt? Anger? Desolation? 

If he had wanted a life like this, he should have just stayed with the Family and done Hanzo’s murdering for him. At least he would’ve known the kind of snakes he would be dealing with, known to expect them. But he chose to leave, dealt with the consequences, and then made another choice to try and atone for his sins. But apparently, he had never had a choice. The universe had marked him down as a killer and it was determined that its planning would not go to waste. Sure, the people Reyes had them going after deserved it, but that was just going off of Reyes’ word. What if some of the assassination missions he had been sent on were for contracts taken out on good people? But what could constitute them being ‘good people’ in such a shit world as this one? There were no good people in this world. This train of thought came shrieking to a halt as Green growled in his chest and reminded him with one word. 

_ Angela. _

He didn’t think it possible but another wave of misery came crashing over him. What was Angela going to think when she heard about this? And she would find out, he had no doubt about that. He had seen the media drones circling them while they ran through the streets of Rialto. The only other fight that he had ever been in that had gone so wrong was his fight with Hanzo. 

Genji sat back in his seat until his head made contact with the warm wall behind him with a solid thud. Jesse threw his hands up and sat back down on the couch next to him, obviously frustrated. He started puffing on a new cigarillo and pulled his hat low over his face. “We’re fucked,” he said.

Were they really though? They had always done shady shit with Blackwatch and Reyes always got them off the hook. True, this time they would have to deal with media fall out, but that didn’t mean Reyes couldn’t work a little bit of his magic again. Morrison was ‘sweet on him’ after all, to use Jesse’s terminology. Genji felt a tug on his heart at the thought. Surely Reyes wasn’t quite so heartless as to use someone like that. It was beyond cruel. But Genji was pretty sure that he was beyond the capacity to be surprised anymore. 

They spent several days laying low in the safehouse house in Padua. Reyes and Jesse got into such heated arguments that twice they ended up screaming at each other and Genji actually had to jump in between them to keep it from coming to blows. Other than playing the occasional peacekeeper, Genji kept mostly to himself, taking some time to try and suture up what turned out to be a knife wound. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when he’d gotten it. It was just one more scar to add to the landscape of his body. 

He mulled over Jesse’s proclamation that they had to leave before they were thrown under the bus. Doubt that Reyes, and Overwatch for that matter, would just let them go squashed the fledgling idea of actually leaving with him. They knew an exorbitant amount of classified information and the remaining members of Blackwatch would probably be tasked with bringing them in. And two people were always easier to track down than just a lone target. No, if they left, they would have to go their separate ways. 

But could he leave Angela? 

The thought made guilt swirl in his stomach until he was sick with it for two very separate reasons. He saw Angela’s beautiful blue eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughed and then imagined what they would look like glassed over with tears. Beautiful either way. But Angela deserved someone better than him, someone who wouldn’t make her worry so much and someone who didn’t kill people for a living. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure he was making enough money to constitute making a living. What kind of idiot didn’t even check to see if he was getting paid? If he wanted to take Angela out for a nice meal, he should at least check to see if he could afford it in the first place. Another reason for him to leave her alone. No good could come from her associating with him any more than a doctor normally would with one of their patients. It was best to just cut his losses before they could become worse and give Angela the time and space she would need to get over...whatever it was that she said she wanted to talk to him about. 

A clean break would be best.

He just had to find the courage to do it first. 

One morning in the middle of one of their arguments Jesse actually took a swing at Reyes and he ended up flat on his back with Reyes’ hands gripped around his throat faster than the blink of an eye. Genji lept into action, trying to pull the bigger man off of his friend but he was so much  _ bigger  _ than the two of them. It was the first time he’d really understood what it was that the SEP had done to their soldiers and it scared him. His cybernetic enhancements made him stronger than most other people but Reyes was still so much stronger than him. And it was terrifying. 

“Don’t you ever do something so fucking stupid again,” Reyes growled at Jesse before finally loosening his grip. Jesse instantly breathed in a huge gasp of air and started coughing, trying to roll away from Reyes who still straddled him. Genji was shrugged off of him like so much a fly and then Reyes lumbered to his feet.  “Everyone pack up,” he announced as if he hadn’t just been choking one of the members of his squad. “We’re heading back to Gibraltar.” 

It wasn’t until later that Genji realized that the whole time he had been trying to wrestle Reyes off of Jesse, Moira had been standing in the background, arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised while she just watched. And she had looked pleased. 

It took another two days to make it back to the Watchpoint. They split into pairs. Since Moira and Genji were the most conspicuous (Genji being cybernetic and Moira with her height, hair, and heterochromia working against her) they didn’t travel together. Instead Moira and Reyes left a few hours before Genji left the safe house with Jesse. They decided that while traveling back by train would be faster, they would also have less control and all anyone had to do was corner them boarding or exiting the train and they would be done for. Not to mention that once on the train, they would be sitting ducks with a lot of potential civilian casualties around should anyone decide to make a move on them. 

Jesse hotwired a car and they spent a peaceful few days driving across Europe, neither of them in a particular hurry to return to the Watchpoint. Visions of Strike Commander Morrison ripping them both a new one kept flitting through Genji’s thoughts and when he briefly mentioned it to Jesse the shudder that went through his friend told him that he had been thinking about the same thing. 

“That ain’t high on my list of stuff I’m looking forward to,” Jesse said with another shudder. He winced and rubbed his hand against the bruises that were already standing out, livid and purple across his neck. His voice was still a little hoarse from Reyes’ grip.

Beyond that they didn’t really speak much the first day of their journey. Occasionally, Jesse would have to take over the wheel and make navigational adjustments, but for the most part the car drove itself which left the two of them plenty of time to enjoy the sights of southern Europe. Watching the scenery fly by gave Genji a lot of time to think about and process what Jesse had said when they first got to the safe house in Padua; think about leaving Overwatch.  Jesse broke several hours of silence as they drove through a field in France littered with rusting Bastion Units and blown out tanks. 

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about what I said,” he began. “And I think I might have gotten a bit carried away. I was just...shit, I was just pissed off. I worked with Reyes on a plan for three days and then he went and fucked us all real good. I don’t know,” he cocked his head to the side and propped his elbow up on the door frame. “I know he was pissed about the attack on Grand Mesa but Jesus--”

“Wait, what?” Genji turned to stare at his friend. “What attack on Grand Mesa?” He had never been to that watchpoint, but he knew that it was way more of a fortress than the one on Gibraltar. Situated high up in the Rocky Mountains, it would take a really determined foe to mount any sort of attack on the base. Either that or a really stupid one. 

“Aw, hell, you didn’t hear about that?” Genji shook his head. “I forgot you were out spending some quality time with gators and missed all of that. But you didn’t wonder why we were going out to arrest some guy in Italy?” 

Genji shrugged. “I just go where they tell me to.” 

Jesse gave him a look that was part pity, part disbelief. “You might want to start checking up on some of your missions. Stop going in blind. Please tell me you research your marks at least.”

Genji shrugged again but a feeling of unease had settled in his stomach. This conversation was dangerously close to broaching what he had been worried about all along. “Just enough to get the job done.” 

That earned him a long, hard stare. “Shit, Shimada,” Jesse eventually muttered, turning back to look at the road stretching out ahead of them. “Don’t get me wrong, I owe everything, and I mean  _ everything  _ to Reyes. If it weren’t for him, my pretty ass would be sitting in a high security prison for all of the crap I put the American feds through with Deadlock, but I’m reaching the end of my rope.” He looked back at Genji, eyes searching. “Tell me you feel it too.” 

‘It’ could be all manner of things, but Genji was pretty sure he knew exactly what Jesse was talking about. It was the compartmentalization, the missions that didn’t seem to really have a point behind them. Once, all Genji had been tasked to do was tail Director Petras for two weeks and write up a report on his habits and movements. What could Overwatch possibly need to know about the personal life of Director of the United Nations? “I feel it too,” he told Jesse quietly. 

Jesse gave him a short nod in response and then resumed looking forward. He blew out his cheeks in a puff of air. “I think I signed up for the wrong outfit.” 

Genji looked out the window. They drove past a Bastion Unit that had been fried in the process of ripping its way into a tank. He could just make out the Omnica Corporation logo on the unit before they sped by. Overwatch had started out with noble intentions, but what was that old American saying? “The best laid plans of mice and men…” he muttered. Jesse hummed in agreement next to him. “I don’t think I can go with you,” he said to the glass window. It was easier than looking at his friend as he spoke the words. “I am out of balance,” he said, finally managing to put his chaotic feelings into words. “I would only cause you trouble.”

Silence descended upon the interior of the car. To give himself something to do Genji began gnawing on his bottom lip. The scars on it made the skin tougher than it used to be, another reminder of how his life had changed. Golden light began to bathe the fields around them as the summer sun marched its way lower across the sky. Southern France was beautiful in the summer, even with the burnt out carcasses of omnics littered across the landscape. 

“Alright,” Jesse finally said. “So we go our separate ways.” He sounded tired, like he had aged several years since the start of this mission. The feeling was mutual. When Genji glanced over at him, his face was expressionless, like he had built the walls back up that had been there when they first met. The realization stung. “We go our separate ways,” he repeated and met Genji’s eyes. “And if we can, we let each other know we’re doing alright. But no guarantees and no looking back. I think if we stay we’re both going to die. Either that or the UN is gonna crucify us.” His hand strayed back to the bruises on his neck. 

Genji didn’t disagree, he just didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Everything had been so much easier when he didn’t question anything and just went along with whatever they told him to do. Those first few months after his surgery everything had felt like he was in a thick fog, just going through the motions and not thinking about the consequences. But his friendship with Jesse and whatever it was that he had with Angela had changed everything. 

“If we can, we let each other know we’re alright,” Genji nodded and echoed Jesse’s sentiment.The words made a hollow feeling appear in his chest, just another complicated mess of emotions to add to the mix. Frankly, he was surprised that he even had the capacity to feel all of these different emotions anymore. If he ever needed confirmation that he was still human regardless of all of the metal attached to him, than the overwhelming feeling of chaos sitting under his breastbone was it. 

They fell silent after that and the sun was long gone under the horizon by the time they stopped for the night. They ditched the car and checked into a motel and spent the night mostly in quiet contemplation, occasionally murmuring something to each other. Jesse helped him change the bandage on his knife wound. Green had already started accelerating the healing process but there was still the possibility of it getting infected after so long without proper treatment and Genji didn’t fancy having to explain to Angela how he had let that happen after her recent experience with septic wounds. 

The next morning Jesse hotwired another vehicle and they were on their way again, this time the Spanish countryside flying by them. Jesse got to impress him with his Spanish skills, all the while complaining about the weird accent as they made their way down to Gibraltar. Eventually, they made their way back to base and entered without much pomp and circumstance. Jesse slinked away with a muttered, “I’ll talk to you later. Don’t do anything stupid until I get some things squared away,” and then Genji was alone, left standing in one of the watchpoint’s many stark white hallways with no one looking over his shoulder and no one coming out of the corners to take him in for questioning. He figured that Athena already had tabs on them all and it was really only a matter of time before heads started rolling. 

_ A clean break _ , he told himself again. Without telling them, his feet began to take him in the direction of the medbay. He had a field dressing that needed replacing anyway. 

When he got to the medbay he could have kicked himself. Angela was nowhere in sight, probably because she was still recovering from their foray into the Louisiana swamp. How could he have been so fucking stupid? What kind of person says, “I don’t think we should see each other,” when the other is in recovery from surgery. The trip to Italy had taken about a week in total: one day to set up surveillance, one day to pull off (and severely fuck up) the job, and then three days lying low at the safe house and two days hauling ass back to the watchpoint. That meant it had been just over a week since Angela had been fitted with her cybernetic arm so there was no way that she would be practicing normal consultation hours. 

Genji closed his eyes and stood there, in the middle of the empty medbay and tried to think. Exhaustion was finally starting to take hold of him. Even though he was mostly metal now and could recharge to keep moving for days at a time, the organic parts of him were screaming for food and sleep, not necessarily in that order. His eyes flickered over to the room that he had started to call his own, the same one he had woken up in that first time after his surgery all those months ago, and the same one he stayed in because it kept him close to Angela. Pathetic.

He dragged himself over to the bed and hauled himself on top of it. He would just close his eyes for a little while before trying to find Angela again.

***

His resolve to tell Angela he was leaving lasted right up until the moment he saw her standing there in her doorway, wrapped up in that same fluffy pink bathrobe and wearing a pair of fleece pajama pants. A messy bun kept most of her hair out of her eyes but a few strands had escaped and framed her face. She looked beautiful.

“Genji!” She said in surprise. The sound of his name on her lips made something ease inside his chest that he hadn’t realized was hurting and he knew that he would never be able to say the words to her.

“Hello, Angela,” he said instead. 

***

Angela stared at Genji standing in her doorway in sweatpants and a t-shirt, one hand still on the door controls, mouth slightly open as her heart skipped a beat. He looked a little thinner than the last time she had seen him and there were still dark circles under his eyes. She stopped her quick once over of him when she saw the square-ish outline of a field dressing under his t-shirt. With a frown she stood off to the side, “Please come in. Let me take a look at that.” Once the door slid shut behind him, she gestured at one of her kitchen chairs and told Genji to have a seat. Then she headed into her bathroom to get her emergency medical kit. She hadn’t had cause to use it yet, after all you had to walk through a completely stocked medical bay to get to her apartment, but she was still glad to have planned ahead. She reached for the kit on the top shelf of the bathroom closet with her new cybernetic arm, pleased with its easy response. It still twinged painfully from time to time, but she was happy with the smooth response all the same. Bioemitters really were an incredible medical innovation. 

When she got back to the kitchen, Genji was still sitting at the table staring off into the middle distance with his knee bouncing up and down. It was the first time she had seen him display such a nervous tic and it made her feel like she should be nervous too. It was the first time he had actually been in her private quarters, but instead of feeling nervous she felt a strange sense of calm. She arranged her kit on the table so everything was in easy reach and scooted her chair close enough that she could feel the body heat rolling off of Genji in waves. It was comforting and she found herself wanting to lean in closer. 

“Let me see,” she said, hoping that her voice sounded normal. Genji still wouldn’t look at her, but he took a deep breath and an emotion she couldn’t identify flitted across his face so fast she could have imagined it. But eventually he curled his fingers around the bottom of his shirt and peeled it off, up and over his head. Seeing Genji without his shirt on was nothing new, after all she was his doctor and had seen much more of him before, but something about this was different. Maybe it was the quiet intimacy of sitting so close in her apartment or the way he was looking at her, but Angela felt her mouth go dry and tried to focus. 

She moved her chair a bit closer and peeled back the field dressing resting just over his heart. She hissed when she saw the jagged red mark sliced into the muscle there and shook her head at the tiny black stitches someone had made. “Did you do this yourself?” She asked. Early signs of healing were already present and she suspected that Green had something to do with it.

“Jesse helped,” he responded. They were close enough that his words ruffled her hair slightly. She carefully traced her finger along the mark and he shivered under her touch. 

“You did a good job.” Feeling daring, Angela allowed her fingers to leave the site of the injury and trailed gently across the expanse of his chest, exploring the various other marks from his past. An array of livid bruises stood out against his pale skin, making some of his scars stand out even more starkly. She brushed her thumb over his collarbone and Genji shivered again. 

“Angela,” he said, sounding breathless. She could feel his pulse racing under her touch, strong, vibrant, and alive. His hands came up to bracket her waist and his thumbs traced circles on her pelvis. 

“Shh,” she said. Moving her other hand to brush across his cheekbone, Angela saw Genji’s pupils blown wide with desire, mouth slightly parted. She was tired of waiting, tired of second guessing herself. She wanted him, and from the looks of things, he wanted her too. They moved at the same time, lips coming together with a gentle press, like they were both afraid of scaring the other away. 

The kiss started out chaste, just the two of them enjoying the sensation of lips brushing over each other. Angela heard a chant of  _ finally, finally, finally _ echoing through her mind but it was quickly silenced when Genji brushed his tongue against her bottom lip and the kiss deepend. She moaned and pressed herself closer as Genji’s hand moved lower, gripping her ass and crushing them closer together. He gasped when she nipped at his lower lip, the sound making heat pool in her belly and she wanted more, more,  _ more _ . Unhappy with the space still between them, Angela left her chair and climbed into Genji’s lap, grinding herself against the hard length she felt beneath his sweatpants.

Genji moaned a broke their kiss. “Wait, Angela,” he panted. “Are you sure--”

“I know what I want,” she interrupted and kissed him again. 

His mouth was supple beneath hers, lips a little tougher from the scars that criss crossed their way from his bottom lip and up to his ear. She kissed her way across his jaw, pressing kisses against the scarring and trying to show Genji that she didn’t care about his scars. They were a sign that he had survived everything that life had thrown at him so far and she loved them. His hands left her hips to work at the knot tying her bathrobe closed and then she shrugged the robe off and onto the floor. He ran his hands up her sides, one hand coming up to knead her breast, thumb brushing against her nipple, all the while kissing her breathless. Another moan escaped her when he gave her a gentle pinch. The sound made him growl and suddenly Genji was standing up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, unwilling the break their kiss as he moved them out of the kitchen and in the direction of her bedroom. 

_ Yes _ , she wasn’t sure if she said the word out loud or not but  _ yes _ , they were doing this and yes, it was really happening. Her head spun and her heart raced wildly. Genji deposited her gently on the bed and she took the opportunity to scramble out of her pajama pants until she was laying there, completely naked and glanced up at him. He stood at the foot of her bed, just looking at her and Angela felt briefly overwhelmed by the naked longing and desire in his expression. The crotch of his sweatpants was tented and the sight sent another thrill of desire and anticipation through her. Genji looked and reacted that way  _ because of her _ . 

But the longer he looked at her, the more impatient she became. 

“Genji, please I need you,” she stretched an arm out to him, inviting him into her bed. 

For the first time since they had started, he looked unsure. “I don’t know if I can,” he gestured down at himself, the movement encompassing his legs and artificial arm. “Not without hurting you.” 

Angela sat up. “You won’t hurt me, Genji,” she said, knowing it to be true. 

He hesitated for a moment longer before pulling down his sweats and underwear, stepping out of them with uncertainty. He averted his gaze and the tips of his ears turned pink. Angela wanted to show him that it was okay, that she wanted him and everything that came with him. 

“Look at me, Genji,” she said and waited for him to comply. When she was certain that his eyes were on her, she let her legs fall open, exposing her core and brushed her fingers across the wetness there. Genji’s eyes widened and followed the movement of her fingers as she stroked herself. She bit her bottom lip. “I want you, Genji. I’ve wanted you for so long.” She moaned and dragged her thumb across her clit, the movement sending a shot a pleasure down her spine. “Do you see what you do to me? I want you.” Ever so slowly, she inserted first one finger and then two, maintaining eye contact all the while. It was nowhere near as good as the real thing, but she wanted to show him, needed to show Genji that she wasn’t lying, that she wanted this. He groaned when she began to fuck herself and that was all it took for him to leave his reservations behind and climb on the bed with her. 

He moved her hand away from herself and pinned her wrists to the mattress above her head with his cybernetic hand and kissed her possessively, like he could steal the very air from her lungs. His grip was strong and just this side of painful when she tried to wiggle out from under his grip. She wanted to touch him everywhere, knead the muscles of his ass, drag her nails down his back, take a hold of his shaft, but he maintained his grip. Angela gasped into his mouth and bucked her hips up, desperate for some friction. He pressed wet, open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, sucking a bruise into her pulse point. She widened her legs to make more room for him and she could feel his cock, resting hot and heavy against her hip. The air grew hot and humid between them as they continued to rock against each other, moaning and gasping, biting and teasing. 

She could feel the heat building up in her core already but it was too soon, she needed more. Exchanging filthy kisses like this with him was addictive, she felt like she could kiss him forever but she was also tired of waiting. “Please,” she gasped. “I need you.” He pulled back to look at her, dark eyes boring into her. “In the drawer next to my bed,” she murmured and tried to sit up to kiss him again. 

He quirked an eyebrow. “You keep condoms in your bedside drawer?” 

“I’m a doctor, Genji,” she reminded him and squirmed a bit, taking satisfaction at the way the movement made him gasp. He finally released her wrists to open the bedside drawer and she took the opportunity to run her hands down his back like she had been craving. She heard the crinkle of a wrapper and then she wrapped her hand around the base of his dick. Genji swore and she sucked a bruise into his collarbone. “Let me help you with that,” she said and rolled the condom on for him before laying back down on the bed, cushioned by the pillows behind her head. 

She watched the way he took himself in his hand and spread her legs a little wider. He positioned himself just in front of her entrance before looking up and catching her eye. His gaze was hot and heavy, eyes half lidded with desire. She was just about to order him to do  _ something  _ when he slid inside her and she finally,  _ finally  _ felt him inside her. 

He shuddered and took a deep breath, letting his head fall forward onto her shoulder and she wrapped her legs more securely around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back. She moved her hips up once, to get more friction and that was all it took before he started moving in her, pulling out sharply before sinking back in further until she felt full, whole, perfect. This was where he belonged, her with her, she was certain of it. At some point she gasped his name and soon they were lost in the rhythm with one another, gasping and breathing each other’s air. Angela could feel the warmth building up stronger in her belly, and arched her back up, pressing her breasts into his chest, desperate for more friction. She mewled against his mouth when he pinned her hands above her again and ran a hand down the length of her body to where they were joined and brushed a finger across her clit. The touch sent a wave of pleasure through her body and she moaned loudly, arching up again, hips meeting his with each thrust. The wet, obscene sound of their bodies connecting was the only sound in the room save for their ragged breathing and the occasional cry of one of their names. Genji continued to rub at the overly sensitive bundle of nerves and she could feel her orgasm growing closer and closer. His mouth was everywhere, sucking at her neck, crushing bruising kisses against her lips, until the pleasure got so intense they were just breathing each other’s air, too caught up in everything to do more than gasp and breathe. Genji’s hips began to stutter in their motion until the movement became erratic and he gave one last thrust and came with a shout, shuddering above her. 

Angela was close now too, but not quite there yet. She moved her hips, helped Genji through his orgasm while chasing hers, breaking free of his hold around her wrists to take his hand and help him tease her clit. Finally, they moved together just right and Angela shattered, the world around her going soft and warm as her toes curled and an enormous wave of pleasure washed over her. 

When she came back to herself, Genji was gently pulling out of her and their fingers were still entwined together. She felt rather than saw the movement of him climbing off the bed to head into the bathroom, presumably to dispose of the condom and clean himself up but she was too blissed out to react much. The bed tilted down when Genji came back and she sighed when he climbed in with her, pulled the covers over both of them, and put his arms around her. She sighed and settled back against him, tangling their legs together and enjoying the sensation of his softened cock settled between them. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

***

Genji knew the moment Angela fell asleep. She slackened in his arms and her breathing evened out to slow, deep breaths. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her and sat up in bed and very deliberately turned away from her. He couldn’t look at Angela, at the love bites he’d sucked into her neck and breasts, at the contented expression on his face. The sight would make him lose his nerve. He was already furious with himself for breaking down and having sex with Angela, but he had been helpless to resist when she had been looking at him like that. Now he could just add the guilt onto the already enormous pile and self hatred. 

Slowly, so as not to wake her, Genji climbed out of bed and dressed again. He also looked around for something to write with, finally finding an old fashioned notepad and pen on the coffee table in Angela’s living room. With a sinking and painful heart, Genji sketched out a few phrases that he knew could never fully explain his reasoning and never would. Then he crept back into the bedroom to put the folded note on Angela’s nightstand where she was sure to see it, took one last look at her sleeping face, and left. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just...gonna go lay down. Don't hate me. There's gonna be a happy ending. Eventually. Just...not yet.


End file.
